AMERICAN    REVOLUTION. 


Fac-simile  of  a  Two  Dollar  Bill — Revolutionary  Currency. 
Feb.  17,.  1776. 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS 


OF    THE 


AMERICAN  REVOLUTION. 


Prepared  from  Authentic  Domestic  Records. 

together   with  Reminiscences   of 

Washington  &  Lafayette. 

Edited  by  SIDNEY  BARCLAY.  1p-: 


NEW    YORK: 

RUDD  &  CARLETON,  130  GRAND  STREET, 

(BROOKS  BUILDING,  COR.  OF  BROADWAY.) 

MDCCCLIX. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 

SIDNEY   BARCLAY, 

la  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


B.   CRAIGHEAD, 
Printer,  Stereotyper,  and  Electrotyper, 

Carton  JSttiUmig, 

81,  83,  and  85  Centre  Street. 


To 
WASHINGTON    IRVING,    ESQ. 

THIS    VOLUME 
Is  with  permission  inscribed,  as  a  slight 
iimoraHl  of  JjUsptcf, 

S.  B. 


M169604 


PREFACE 


'TPHE  following  Papers  are  taken  from  private  records  of  the 
Revolution,  written  by  a  mover  among,  and  an  eye-witness 
of,  the  scenes  therein  described ;  commencing  with  the  occupa 
tion  of  Long  Island  by  the  British. 

The  actors  therein  served,  not  in  tented  fields,  or  cabinet 
councils;  their  names  are  not  enrolled  on  the  page  of  history; 
their  deeds  are  unsung  or  unremembered ;  their  sufferings, 
losses,  and  privations  are  unrecorded.  Yet,  in  their  patient 
endurance  they  served  their  country  no  less  than  if  their  blood 
had  been  spilled  upon  her  fields  of  battle,  or  their  treasure  given 
to  acquire  her  freedom. 

Placed  in  a  region  of  country  which  was  taken  early,  and  held 
by  the  enemy  during  the  war,  they  were  subject  to  the  depreda- 


Preface. 

tions,  insults,  and  levies  of  the  British,  and  to  robbery,  incen 
diarism,  and  brutal  assaults  from  a  class  of  outlaws,  between  the 
armies;  the  refuse  of  both  parties,  called  Runners,  Rangers, 
Cow-boys,  etc. 

Those  of  the  noble  true-hearted  countrymen  of  Long  Island, 
who  were  at  all  active  in  behalf  of  freedom  and  their  country, 
were  exiled  from  their  homes  and  obliged  to  fly ;  if  taken,  they 
were  imprisoned,  their  families  were  scattered,  and  their  dwell 
ings  indiscriminately  plundered ;  while,  by  wearing  a  bit  of  red 
ribbon  in  their  hats,  as  royalists,  they  might  have  been  undis 
turbed  and  protected. 

On  the  morning  of  the  3oth  of  August,  1776,  under  cover  of 
a  heavy  fog,  while  the  enemy  were  so  near  that  the  sound  of  their 
pickaxes  and  shovels,  as  they  dug  the  trenches,  was  distinctly 
audible  to  the  Americans,  General  Washington,  with  unrivalled 
skill  and  judgment,  effected  the  silent  retreat  and  memorable 
passage  of  the  East  River. 

"After  this,"  says  a  recent  writer,  "  the  British  and  their  allies, 
the  Tories  and  Refugees,  had  possession  of  the  island,  and  many 
distressing  scenes  occurred,  which  were  never  made  public,  and 
can  therefore  never  be  known." 

Of  this  history,  the  following  pages,  from  unpublished  records, 
long  kept,  and  often  curiously  though  cursorily  peeped  into,  afford 
a  dark,  though  true  picture.  It  is  the  history  of  the  trials  and 


Preface. 

sufferings,  hopes,  fears,  privations,  and  grievances  of  a  neighbor 
hood  in  the  heart  of  the  island.  To  dwell  for  a  season  with 
fervent  gratitude  and  affectionate  pride  on  the  self-denying  spirit, 
indomitable  heroism,  and  inexhaustible  patience,  which  animated 
our  Fathers  and  Mothers  in  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  will 
serve  to  keep  fresh  in  our  remembrance  the  price  paid  for  our 
Freedom-;  will  recall  our  minds  from  the  all-engrossing  Present, 
and  rouse  them  from  the  benumbing  influence  of  luxury  and 
ease. 

The  writer  of  these  Letters,  and  this  Diary,  was  the  wife 
ofjm  officer  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman 
of  the  Church  of  England,  who,  though  endeavoring  to  main 
tain  the  neutral  ground  (as  became  one  who  owed  allegiance  to 
the  Prince  of  Peace)  in  the  contest  which  was  then  raging,  divid 
ing  the  hearts  of  households,  whose  peace  and  joy  had  never 
before  known  a  cloud,  was  yet  loyal  at  heart  through  all  trial, 
temptation,  and  loss.  His  daughter's  position,  as  the  reader 
will  perceive,  was  a  peculiar  and  painful  one. 

The  journal  was  written  during  a  long  period  of  separation 
from  her  husband.  It  presents  a  true  picture  of  her  life,  and 
commences  with  an  extract  from  one  of  his  letters  to  her.  It  is 
full  of  minute  details,  which,  from  their  beauty  and  simplicity, 
have  been  left  untouched.  The  old  manuscript  has  been  faith 
fully  adhered  to,  the  writer  of  this  preface  being  confident  that 


Preface. ' 

its  authenticity  will  not  be  doubted  by  those  who,  taking  truth 
and  nature  for  their  guide,  can  relish  a  plain  tale  plainly  told. 

It  is  questionable  whether  there  could  be  found  in  our  whole 
country  a  spot  where  time  has  made  so  few  changes,  or  custom 
so  little  inroad,  as  in  the  region  which  was  the  scene  of  these 
reminiscences.  The  habits  and  manners  of  its  inhabitants  are 
unaltered.  The  same  houses,  the  same  furniture,  the  same  farms, 
the  same  trees,  remain  to  this  day.  The  spot  where  some 
cruelty  or  outrage  was  committed  is  still  pointed  out,  and  the 
very  hearthstone  is  shown,  under  which  lay  hidden,  until  the 
danger  passed  by,  the  little  relics  of  the  broken  household  family 
plate,  or  perhaps  all  the  money  possessed  by  the  needy  owner. 


THE    JOURNAL 


THE    JOURNAL 


"  \\/rRITE  from  thy  heart^  ^ary->  from 

the  inmost  recesses  of  it,  that  I  may 
look  into  it,  as  it  loves,  hopes,  thinks,  fears, 
that,  though  absent,  fhou  mayest  be  near,  and 
that  thy  troubles,  thy  cares,  may  le  shared, 
though  not  alleviated,  ly  one  whom  fhou  lovest, 
and  who  loves  thee" 

The  request  shall  be  granted ;  each 
day  a  page  in  the  journal,  or  a  letter  to 
my  husband. 

Still  at  the  Parsonage  with  my  three 
precious  children;  already  heart-weary 

17 


1776 


uember. 


\\> 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


at  your  absence,  but  striving  to  keep 
up  courage.  To-day  received  intelli 
gence  of  the  unfortunate  affair  of  Brook 
lyn.  What  a  skilful  movement  was 
that  of  General  Washington — a  won 
derful  retreat ! — the  enemy  so  near  that 
the  sound  of  their  pickaxes  and  shovels 
could  be  heard  !  It  is  a  new  proof  of 
his  cool  forethought  and  judgment. 
_The  heavy  fog  seemed  to  fall  provi 
dentially.  May  we  not  accept  it  as  an 
omen  that  our  leader  is  the  favored  of 
Heaven? 

In  this  quiet  nook  where  we  had 
hoped  to  find  peace  and  safety,  we  shall 
have  disturbance,  fear,  and  danger;  since 
the  enemy  have  possession  of  the  island, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  it,  but  to  some 
extent  my  father's  neutral  stand,  and 
sacred  profession,  will  protect  us. 

As  we  have  moved  to  this  place,  dear 


18 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


Edward,  since  you  left  us,  I  think  it 
will  be  agreeable  to  you  to  have  some 
little  description  of  it.  It  is  a  low- 
roofed,  Dutch  style  of  house,  with  its 
gable  to  the  road;  white-washed  and 
covered  with  sweetbriar  and  creeping 
vines  of  many  kinds;  and  my  father  has 
planted  the  ivy,  which  came  from  his 
dear  Old  England.  It  grows  slowly, 
and  the  children  love  to  pick  its  glossy 
leaves,  and  carry  them  to  grandpa.  At 
the  sight  of  them,  his  heart  of  tender 
ness  reverts  to  early  days ;  he  tells  them 
of  the  old  castles,  and  grey  ruins  it  man 
tles  over  the  sea,  and  of  the  one  which 
overgrew  the  cottage  where  he  was  born. 
The  thoughts  of  my  dear,  honored 
parent  remind  me  of  a  brave  old  tree 
torn  up  by  its  roots,  and  transplanted 
into  a  foreign  soil ;  it  may  not  die,  but 
it  has  a  sickly  appearance,  and  its  leaves 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


have  lost  their  living  green,  and  are  pale 
and  yellow. 

The  front  door  opens  into  a  hall  of 
moderate  size.  On  the  right  is  the  par 
lor;  back  of  it  my  father's  study,  while 
on  the  other  side  is  the  dining-room 
and  bed-room,  and  in  the  wing  the 
kitchen.  The  rooms  above  are  spa 
cious  and  convenient,  the  windows  at 
the  end  being  large,  admitting  air  and 
light.  Across  the  front  of  the  dwelling 
runs  a  piazza,  or  covered  porch.  Here 
we  sit  and  sew,  and  talk,  and  read. 
My  father  tells  me  the  news,  which  he 
gathers  in  his  walks  in  the  neighbor 
hood  ;  and  I  read  to  him  portions  of 
your  letters,  which  indeed  is  but  seldom, 
because  they  are  so  few.  His  breast  is, 
I  think,  agitated  by  contending  emo 
tions.  He  is  attached  to  the  land  of  his 
adoption,  and  can  sympathize  in  her  dis- 


30 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


tress,  but  naturally  his  first,  his  dearest 
affections,  were  given  to  the  land  of 
his  birth.  Can  we  censure  this?  call 
it  infatuation,  blindness  ?  Oh  no !  I 
honor  my  father  for  the  sentiment. 
Do  not  condemn  it,  Edward.  We  love 
this,  our  native  land,  the  native  country 
of  my  mother,  of  both  your  parents. 
Her  cause  seems  to  us  a  righteous  one. 
She  is  over-taxed,  oppressed,  insulted; 
my  father  feels  this,  he  is  indignant  at 
it;  yet,  in  his  character  of  ambassador 
of  Christ,  follower  of  the  Crucified,  as 
well  as  by  nature's  instinct,  he  hates  the 
sin,  while  he  laves  the  sinner.  They 
seem  (the  English)  the  foes  of  our  own 
household  to  him;  brother  lifting  up 
sword  against  brother,  in  unnatural  war 
fare,  which  he  prays  may  speedily  come 
to  an  end ! 


21 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


October    d. 


r\EAR,  dear  husband  !  was  there  ever 
anything  so  sorrowful,  so  dreadful, 
as  young  Nathan  Hale's  fate  ?  Tears 
are  running  down  while  I  write. 

Would  that  the  enemy's  designs  could 
have  been  discovered  without  so  costly 
a  sacrifice  !  Gen.  Washington  desired, 
for  he  knew  it  to  be  of  vital  importance 
to  the  Continental  Forces,  that  some 
one  should  penetrate  the  British  Camp, 
to  discover  their  plans. 

In  the  performance  of  this  duty,  the 
flower  of  the  army  has  fallen  a  victim 
to  British  wrath  and  brutality. 

Rhoda  Pemberton  wrote  me  that  at 
the  time  when  Colonel  Knowlton  first 
made  known  to  the  officers,  the  wish  of 
the  Commander-in-Chief,  a  dead  silence 
prevailed ;  and  then  Captain  Hale 
looked  up  and  said,  "  I  will  undertake 
it."  It  seemed,  she  said,  against  right 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


and  nature  to  all  his  friends,  and  even  to 
strangers,  that  so  young  and  gallant  an 
officer  should  go  out  on  such  service. 
But  young  Hale  said,  "  Every  kind  of 
service  for  his  country  became  honor 
able.  It  was  desired  by  the  Com 
mander  of  her  armies." 

Young  Captain  Hale  left  the  camp  at 
Harlem  Heights  under  General  Wash 
ington's  orders,  late  in  last  month,  I 
believe. 

Before  reaching  the  British  lines  he 
assumed  the  dress  of  a  school  master ; 
he  wore  a  suit  of  brown  broad-cloth,  and 
a  round  broad-brimmed  hat. 

He  took  off  his  silver  shoe  buckles 
too.  His  college  diploma  was  in  his 
port-manteau,  signed  by  the  Reverend 
Doctor  Napthali  Daggett  of  Yale  Uni 
versity. 

He    passed,  so  Rhoda  tells  me,  safely 


American  Revolution. 


through  the  British  lines,  every  where, 
along  the  posts,  and  among  the  tents  and 
barracks,  to  Huntingdon,  about  nine 
miles  from  this  place.  It  was  the  place 
from  which  he  started  a  short  time 
before.  A  boat  was  to  meet  him,  to 
sail  over  to  Connecticut  Main. 

The  young  man  went  down  to  the 
shore  at  day-break  in  perfect  security; 
no  doubt  buoyed  with  joy  at  the  success 
of  his  enterprise. 

He  saw  a  boat  moving  shoreward. 
//  was  the  enemy !  He  did  retreat,  but 
they  cried  out  "  Surrender,  or  Die." 

An  armed  vessel,  the  "  Halifax,"  stood 
around  the  neck,  out  of  sight.  Thither 
the  young  man  was  taken,  and  put  in 
irons. 

His  papers,  written  in  some  dead  lan 
guage  (Latin,  I  believe),  were  under  the 
soles  of  his  pumps.  They  betrayed  him. 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


The  next  morning  at  daybreak,  after 
he  received  sentence,  he  was  executed. 

"I  only  regret,"  he  said,  just  before 
he  ascended  to  the  gibbet,  "  that  I 
have  but  one  life  to  lose  for  my  coun 
try." 

Rhoda  gave  me  this  account.  She 
says  that  Prevost  Cunningham  (the  in 
human  wretch  !)  called  out,  "  Swing  the 
Rebel  off!" 

I  cannot  write  this  without  weeping. 
It  was  a  noble  testimony,  but  a  bitter 
necessity.  So  likely,  so  young,  so 
brave. 

It  was  on  the  2ist  of  September  '76. 
They  tore  up  the  letter  he  wrote  to  his 
family,  saying,  the  rebels  should  never 
know  they  had  a  man  in  their  arrny 
who  could  die  with  such  firmness. 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Tuesday.  'TPHE  Hessians  have  been  ordered  to 
cut  down  all  the  saplings  they  can 
find.  They  pile  them  along  the  road 
about  twelve  feet  high,  then  by  pressing 
teams  and  wagons,  they  cart  it  away  to 
forts  and  barracks  at  a  distance. 

It  is  a  serious  loss;  in  a  few  years 
our  farms  will  be  without  wood  for  use. 
They  (the  Hessians)  burn  an  immense 
quantity; — even  the  rail-fences,  unless 
we  take  care  to  cut  and  cart  wood  for 
their  constant  use.  Keeping  the  fire 
a-going  all  night,  many  a  poor  farmer 
rises  in  the  morning  to  find  his  cattle 
strayed  miles  away,  or  his  grain  trampled 
down  and  ruined ! 


Wednesday. 


\  BOUT  thirty  miles  to  the  eastward, 

a    countryman    was    met     on    the 

road  by  a  company  of  English  soldier 

ruffians,  when  they  began  to  curse  and 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


swear,  and  threaten  to  compel  him  to 
say,  "God  save  the  king,"  which  he 
resolutely  and  unwisely  refused  to  do; 
though  doubtless  not  counting  on  their 
putting  their  threat  into  execution. 

One  of  the  villains,  more  in  liquor 
and  more  violent  than  the  rest,  stepped 
up  to  the  American,  with  a  drawn  sword, 
which  he  kept  flourishing  over  the  poor 
creature's  head,  and  shouted,  "  Say  it,  or 
ty  -  — you're  a  dead  man!"  The  villain 
paused  an  instant;  the  dumb  silence  of 
the  man  continued,  and  the  dreadful 
threat  was  put  into  execution ! 

I  suppose  there  are  many  around  us 
who  would  have  done  the  same  thing. 
Few,  in  this  our  day  and  generation, 
pray  for  their  enemies,  not  even  "  Good 
King  George!" 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Saturday.' 


J^UTH  FLOYD'S  husband  (you  re 
member  Ruth,  my  old  friend)  has 
been  murdered ! 

She  married  Nathaniel  Woodhull. 
He  was  elected  last  year  President  of 
the  Provincial  Congress.  There  are  no 
bounds  to  the  indignation  and  horror. 
A  pattern  of  Christian  meekness  must 
he  or  she  be,  to  be  able  to  forgive  and 
pray  for  such  enemies.  But  that  God 
will  turn  their  hearts  I  do  most  fervently 
implore. 

I  jot  down  a  few  of  the  particulars, 
although  it  is  a  painful  task. 

His  duty  was  to  drive  the  live  stock 
from  the  shore  to  the  interior  of  the 
island,  out  of  the  reach  of  the  enemy. 

Being  poorly  off  for  men,  he  was 
forced  to  wait  a  reinforcement  at 
Jamaica.  He  was  Brigadier-General  of 
Suffolk  and  Oueens. 


American  Revolution. 


The  General  fell  a  victim  to  his  high 
sense  of  honour.  He  refused  to  aban 
don  his  perilous  post,  while  any  hope 
of  reinforcement  remained. 

My  father  thinks  that  he  would  have 
been  justified  in  withdrawal.  His  force 
was  reduced  to  less  than  100  men,  from 
a  desire  to  remove  their  families  to 
places  of  safety. 

Those  remaining,  were  worn  down, 
and  their  horses  over-driven,  in  repelling 
the  ravaging  parties  of  the  enemy.  The 
British  (landing  at  Gravesend)  were 
pouring  over  the  Island  in  swarms,  cut 
ting  off  communications  with  the  Ame 
rican  force  at  Brooklyn. 

A  severe  thunder-storm  compelled 
him  to  take  refuge  in  an  inn  near  by. 
He  was  overtaken  by  the  lyth  regiment 
of  British  Dragoons.  The  General  gave 
up  his  sword  in  token  of  surrender.  A 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


ruffian  ordered  him  to  say,  "  God  save 
the  King."  The  General  replied,  "  God 
save  us  all;"  on  which  the  cowardly 
assassin  brutally  assaulted  the  defenceless 
General  with  a  broad-sword. 

He  would  have  killed  him,  but  his 
hand  was  arrested  by  an  officer  of  more 
magnanimity  and  honour. 

One' arm  was  horribly  mangled,  from 
shoulder  to  hand.  In  this  situation  he 
was  dragged  from  place  to  place  :  at 
length  he  was  released  from  a  filthy 
little  vessel  used  to  transport  live  stock 
for  the  use  of  the  British  army  by  the 
enemy,  and  removed,  mangled,  bleeding, 
and  parched  with  fever-heat,  to  an  inn 
at  Jamaica,  Mrs.  Hinchman's  tavern. 

She  gave  up  the  best  room  and  bed 
for  the  poor  wounded  General's  use. 
He  begged  her  not  to  leave  him  alone 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  The 


American  Revolution. 


humane  woman  answered,  "  Don't  be 
uneasy,  General;  I  don't  expect  to  go 
to  bed  to-night." 

The  next  day  he  was  taken  westward 
again.  Mrs.  Hinchman  had  dressed  the 
wounds,  bandaged  his  head,  which  was 
terribly  cut,  and  the  shattered  arm. 

At  a  half-way  house,  while  the  escort 
regaled  themselves  within,  the  wounded 
General  was  left  with  a  guard,  under  the 
horse-shed!  Here  again  woman  acted 
the  part  of  the  good  Samaritan.  Mrs. 
Howard,  the  landlady,  went  out  to 
minister  to  the  weak  and  fainting  patriot. 

She  brought  bread,  and  wine-sangaree, 
and  invited  him  with  tender  pity  and  soli 
citude,  to  partake  of  some  refreshment. 

The  guard  impudently  asked,  "  If  she 
had  nothing  for  them?" 

"I  give  to  prisoners,  you  can  "buy?  the 
kind  woman  replied. 


American  Revolution. 


The  fainting  General  was  conveyed 
to  New  Utrecht.  He  felt  himself  ra 
pidly  growing  worse ;  his  little  remain 
ing  strength  was  fast  ebbing.  He 
urgently  requested  that  his  wife  might 
be  sent  for.  Strange  to  say,  the  request 
was  granted.  The  arm  was  cut  off  by 
the  surgeon,  but  mortification  took 
place,  and  the  brave  man  breathed  his 
last,  his  wife,  Ruth  Floyd,  having  arrived 
only  in  time  to  receive  his  dying 
sigh. 

Poor  Ruth  !  What  must  have  been 
her  feelings  when  the  news  of  her  hus 
band's  state  reached  Mastick ! 

Rhoda  writes  that  she  was  wonder 
fully  sustained,  and  showed  great  pre 
sence  of  mind.  She  (Ruth  Woodhull) 
caused  a  wagon-load  of  provisions  to 
be  put  up ;  but  little  could  her  poor 
husband  partake  of. 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


General  Woodhull  lived  but  a  few 
hours  after  she  reached  New  Utrecht. 
He  was  in  the  enemy's  hospital,  in  a 
comfortless,  wretched  condition.  It  was 
his  request,  that  Ruth  should  distribute 
the  provisions  among  the  poor  starved 
American  prisoners  there,  which  she  did, 
and  then  placed  her  dear,  lost  husband's 
body  in  the  wagon,  and  went  on  her 
lonely  way  home. 

Poor  woman ! 

Yet,  as  she  slowly  travelled  that  dreary 
journey  of  70  miles,  in  tears,  there  must 
have  been  some  comfort  in  the  thought 
that  the  precious  remains  of  her  gallant 
husband  were  not  left  with  the  enemy, 
to  be  denied  the  rites  of  sepulture  ;  but 
that  she  could  lay  him  by  the  side  of  his 
forefathers,  in  the  family  burial-place ; 
in  hope,  and  honourable  pride,  that  for 
his  country  he  had  laid  down  his  life. 

2*  QQ 

do 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Thursday. 


Friday 
Morning. 


a  month  the  Hessians  go 
to  head-quarters  for  their  rations, 
including  spirits,  and  then  for  three  days 
they  are  for  the  most  part  given  up  to 
intoxication,  and  we  have  trying  and 
grievous  scenes  to  go  through ;  fighting, 
brawls,  drumming  and  fifing,  and  danc 
ing  the  night  long ;  card  and  dice  play- 
nig,  and  every  abomination  going  on 
under  our  very  roofs  !  The  noise  from 
the  kitchen,  which  they  always  occupy, 
is  terrifying.  The  door  opening  into 
the  rest  of  the  house  is  nailed  fast,  but 
the  inmates  are  continually  in  dread  of 
having  their  dwellings  burnt  over  their 
heads. 


Pattisons    had    a    fine    young 
heifer    killed     during     the     night. 
Some  of  the  family  heard  the  noise,  but 
thought   it  most  prudent  not  to  make 


American  Revolution. 


any  resistance.     The  creature  was  drawn 
and  quartered  in  the  barn.     What  bold 


ness  ! 


Mrs.  Clement,  the  wife  of  James  Cle 
ment,  was  alone  in  the  house  with  her 
children  yesterday,  about  two  miles 
hence,  when  an  officer  rode  up,  dis 
mounted,  and  entered.  He  told  her 
very  civilly  that  he  wanted  supper  for 
his  company  (about  sixty  men).  She 
politely  declined.  He  then  began  to 
insist,  and  at  length  said  they  should 
come.  Mrs.  Clement  replied  that  it 
was  out  of  the  question.  She  had  no 
thing  prepared ;  no  person  to  assist  her, 
and  four  little  children  to  take  care  of. 
Still  he  rode  off,  saying  they  would  be 
back  in  an  hour  for  supper,  and  if  she 
did  not  get  it  ready,  she  must  take  the 
consequences. 

She  sat  in  fear  and  trembling  through 

2  35 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


the  hour,  and  her  helplessness  overcame 
her  so,  that  she  could  not  resist  tears 
most  of  the  time,  though  she  tried  to 
put  her  trust  in  the  Lord,  that  He  would 
deliver  from  her  distress. 

She  thought  it  would  be  well  if  she 
could  take  her  children  and  leave  the 
house,  but  the  nearest  neighbor  was  a 
mile  by  the  road,  though  only  half  that 
distance  through  the  woods.  But  the 
wood  was  often  infested  with  robbers, 
and  the  very  thought  of  going  that  way 
made  her  shudder.  In  her  state  of 
weakness  and  fear  she  was  quite  unable 
to  carry  her  baby,  and  the  three  little 
ones  were  unable  to  walk  the  distance 
of  a  mile.  So  she  determined  to  wait 
the  event,  and  when  the  British  came 
to  tell  them  the  truth. 

Whether  they  found  a  better  prospect 
elsewhere,  or  what  the  seeming  cause 


American  Revolution. 


was,  I  cannot  say;  but  they  did  not 
return,  and  I  cannot  help  believing 
that  they  were  providentially  deterred 
from  so  doing. 

T  HAVE  to-day  to  record  deeds  of 
horror,  and  of  heroism,  seldom 
equalled. 

The  house  of  Mr.  Wilmot  Oakley, 
near  Cold  Spring,  was  attacked  last 
night.  He  had  long  expected,  and  was 
prepared  to  meet,  the  attack,  being  pro 
verbially  brave  and  powerful. 

The  robbers  forced  open  the  front 
door,  and  entered  the  sitting-room,  ad 
joining  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oakley's  bed 
room.  Two  loaded  guns  stood  in  the 
corner  of  the  room.  The  robbers  were 
armed  with  pistols  and  swords.  On 
opening  the  door,  Mr.  Oakley  saw  three 
men,  one  of  whom  called  out,  "  Surren- 


1776 


Saturday. 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


der,  and  give  up  your  money!"  Not 
he.  They  had  this  time  met  their  equal 
in  daring — the  man  to  fight  it  out,  and 
the  woman  too ! 

Mr.  Oakley  fired  his  gun,  and  one  of 
the  intruders  his  pistol,  which  triflingly 
grazed  the  ear  of  Mr.  Oakley.  He 
handed  his  wife  the  gun,  and  took  from 
her  the  loaded  one  ;  fired  it  off,  and  his 
man  fell.  While  she  reloaded,  he  warded 
the  other  two  of  the  rascals  off  with  the 
gun  in  his  hand.  He  then  took  the  gun 
again  loaded  by  Mrs.  Oakley,  fired,  and 
the  second  man  reeled  and  fell.  The 
other  man,  seeing  one  of  his  comrades 
dead  and  the  other  fallen,  ran  out  of 
the  house,  Mr.  Oakley  (with  his  gun 
reloaded)  after  him,  fired  at  him  as  he 
was  running  on  the  road.  The  next 
morning  traces  of  blood  were  seen  in 
the  road  and  on  the  fence,  so  that  there 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


is   little   doubt   that   he   was  wounded, 
though  he  escaped. 

I  am  glad  to  say  every  effort  was 
made  to  save  the  life  of  the  robber,  who 
lay  in  a  dreadful  condition  on  the  floor 
of  the  parlor,  but  it  proved  unavailing. 
He  followed  his  companion  in  wicked 
ness  before  the  light  of  day. 

RATION-DAY.  The  Hessians  bor 
rowed  a  young  horse  of  Mr.  Pat- 
tison,  to  fetch  home  their  rations,  taking 
a  pail  for  the  liquor.  After  two  hours' 
absence  they  drove  up,  cursing  with 
rage  at  the  horse,  and  whipping  the 
poor  creature  most  unmercifully.  The 
reason  was  soon  manifest.  It  seems, 
just  as  one  of  them  had  set  the  pail  of 
spirits  in  the  wagon,  the  young  horse 
reared  on  his  hind  legs,  and  upset  the 
whole ! 


Tuesday, 
\6th  Oct. 


1776 


American  Resolution. 


Wednesday. 


We  could  scarcely  conceal  our  plea 
sure  on  hearing  this,  well  knowing  we 
had  escaped  one  horrible  jollification  at 
all  events,  thanks  to  the  high-mettled 
animal. 

CHARLES  accompanied  John  Har 
ris  home  from  school,  with  my 
permission,  last  night.  He  returned  this 
morning,  with  a  story  of  the  night,  which 
he  related  to  me  in  breathless  excite 
ment. 

A  family  living  a  mile  from  us  were 
quietly  sitting  together  in  the  evening, 
when  a  noise  was  heard  at  the  door  like 
that  of  a  sharp  instrument  thrust  into  it. 
On  opening  the  door,  there  stood  a  red 
coat  with  his  sabre  in  his  hand,  which 
he  had  stuck  into  the  wood  an  inch  or 
two.  He  was  backed  by  a  dozen  men. 
They  pushed  their  way  in,  and  were 


American  Revolution. 


1 776 


very  unruly,  rummaging  and  ransacking 
every  drawer  and  closet ;  but  the  family 
had  long  before  taken  the  precaution  to 
place  all  their  valuables  and  money  in  a 
small  room,  which  opened  out  of  the 
common  sitting-room,  putting  a  large 
cupboard  before  the  door,  which  covered 
it  entirely;  so  that  the  Hessians  quar 
tered  there  last  winter  never  discovered 
the  existence  of  the  room.  A  cunning 
device. 

The  red-coats,  highly  enraged  at  find 
ing  nothing,  began  to  threaten  terrible 
things  if  they  did  not  divulge  the  hiding 
place.  Mr.  W.  told  them,  that  if  they 
dared  do  any  violence  he  would  report 
them  to  the  commanding  officer ;  where 
upon  they  actually  went  into  the  kitchen, 
kindled  some  light  wood,  came  out,  and 
set  a  burning  brand  at  each  corner  of 
the  house..  The  family  were  exceed- 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


ingly  alarmed.  In  great  terror,  Sarah, 
the  youngest  daughter,  rushed  out.  She 
is  famed  through  all  the  north  side  for 
her  comeliness.  I  can  well  imagine  that 
she  must  have  appeared  to  them  like  a 
lovely  apparition,  with  her  flashing  eye 
and  glowing  cheek.  The  ringleader, 
astonished,  stood  with  a  torch  in  his 
hand,  gazing  at  her. 

At  length  he  said,  "  Angel ! " 

"  Stop,  I  entreat  you,"  said  Sarah. 
His  looks  were  riveted  upon  her  in 
ardent  admiration,  which  embarrassed 
her. 

"  I  will,  on  one  condition,"  said  he. 

"  What  is  it fc?  "  said  she. 

"Will  you  grant  it?" 

"  If  I  can,"  replied  Sarah. 

"  It  is,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  kiss 
you." 

"  Oh,  if  that   is  all,"  said  her  father, 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


"comply,  my  daughter."  So,  as  she 
made  no  resistance,  the  rough  soldier 
planted  a  fervent  kiss  on  her  lips,  ex 
pressed  himself  satisfied,  and  departed. 

They  found  before  her  baby-house 
that  the  soldiers  had  stuck  the  dolls  on 
their  bayonets,  and  railed  among  them 
selves  and  laughed. 

It  is  seldom  that  a  man's  house  is 
attacked  more  than  once.  Mr.  Harris 
had  his  turn  some  time  ago ;  therefore, 
although  he  saw  some  suspicious-looking 
persons  lurking  about,  he  feared  nothing, 
and  rose  before  daylight,  with  the  inten 
tion  of  going  to  the  south  of  the  island 
for  salt  hay. 

Mrs.  Harris,  however,  began  to  feel 
uneasy  and  timid,  from  the  reports  she 
heard  during  the  day,  and  the  recollec 
tion  of  her  never-to-be-forgotten  injuries, 
and  persuaded  her  husband  to  remain  at 


i  776 


American  Revolution. 


home.  That  night  passed  without  dis 
turbance. 

About  nine  o'clock  the  next  evening, 
a  neighbor  stopped  at  the  gate  in  his 
wagon,  and  he  and  Mr.  Harris  were 
running  over  the  exciting  times  and 
scenes  enacting  round  the  country,  when 
they  saw  a  man  moving  about  the  fields, 
and  peering  out  of  the  edge  of  the 
woods  now  and  then.  One  of  the  serv 
ing  women,  too,  had  seen  some  one 
about  dusk  standing  close  by  the  wood 
pile,  who  vanished  on  her  appearance  at 
the  door  of  the  kitchen.  In  consequence 
of  these  signs,  Mr.  Harris  concluded  not 
to  retire,  but  to  sit  up  and  keep  lights 
and  fires  burning  about  the  house. 

Charles  and  the  other  children  were 
sent  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep ;  that  was 
impossible,  with  their  perturbed  and 
excited  imaginations. 

44 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


About  twelve  o'clock,  Mr.  Harris 
being  on  the  look  out,  saw  a  man  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  house,  appa 
rently  reconnoitring;  he  now  held  a 
council  with  his  wife  and  the  two  hired 
men. 

They  came  to  the  conclusion  that  an 
attack  was  intended,  and  that  it  was 
time  to  act;  and  they  determined  to 
leave  the  house  in  a  body,  taking  the 
two  guns,  loaded,  the  money,  silver,  and 
small  valuables. 

Though  the  next  house  was  full  a 
half  mile  off,  there  seemed  no  other 
alternative.  The  poor  little  frightened 
children  were  hurried  up  and  dressed; 
their  fears  and  cries  were  hushed,  and 
they  were  carried  down  stairs.  As 
quietly  as  possible  all  left  the  house  by 
the  back  door. 

It  was  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety ; 


1  776  American  Revolution. 

their  hearts  beat  with  dread  and  terror. 
With  trembling  limbs,  that  almost  re 
fused  to  bear  them,  they  slowly  and 
painfully  moved  on.  "Faint,  though 
pursuing,"  they  endeavored  to  stay  their 
minds  above. 

At  length  arrived  at  Mr.  S.'s,  another 
difficulty  presented  itself.  The  family 
would  inevitably  take  them  for  robbers, 
and  be  liable  to  fire  upon  them. 

In  this  dilemma  Mr.  Harris  thought 
it  best  to  go  close  to  the  door,  and  call 
out  his  name,  trusting  that  his  voice 
would  be  recognised,  which  was  the 
case. 

The  poor  wanderers  were  warmly  re 
ceived,  and  provided  with  comfortable 
beds,  after  they  had  talked  over  their 
fright. 

The  house  of  Mr.  S.  has  never  been 
attacked,  it  is  so  well  secured,  the  doors 

46 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


and  windows  being  lined  and  barred 
with  iron,  which  is  well  known. 

A  new  source  of  trouble  has  appeared 
on  the  south  side — kidnapping  negroes. 

The  ruffians  come  in  sloops  from  the 
Delaware  and  Maryland  country,  and 
landing  on  the  island  in  the  night,  they 
steal  the  poor  creatures  while  asleep, 
after  the  labor  of  cutting  the  salt  mea 
dow  grass  for  their  masters.  When  they 
get  them  away,  they  sell  them  at  the 
South. 

A  week  since,  while  the  men  were  at 
work,  four  persons,  in  broad  day,  their 
faces  blackened,  and  dressed  like  ne 
groes,  appeared  suddenly,  each  armed 
with  a  gun,  and  before  the  others  could 
come  to  the  rescue,  a  man  and  a  boy 
were  forcibly  taken,  put  in  a  boat,  and 
rowed  off  to  a  cutter  out  at  sea.  On 
the  deck  the  villains  could  be  seen 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Wednesday, 
Nov.  2th. 


putting  chains  on  the  poor  creatures.     I 
tremble  at  the  thought  of  the  future  ! 

YESTERDAY  m7  indignation  was 
aroused  to  a  high  degree.  I  was 
sitting  in  the  end  of  the  porch,  my  father 
at  my  side,  and  little  Mary,  with  your 
letter  in  her  hands,  which  she  was 
pretending  to  read,  when  a  loud  cry 
startled  us.  It  seemed  to  come  from 
neighbor  Pattison's,  our  nearest  neigh 
bor.  Charles  went  over,  returned,  and 
gave  us  this  account  of  the  affair.  It 
appears  that  Edmund  Pattison  was  enjoy 
ing  his  noon  rest  quietly  in  the  barn  (he 
is  a  noble-looking  lad  of  eighteen,  tall 
and  athletic,  and  of  a  high  spirit),  when 
a  light-horseman  rode  up  to  the  door. 
"  Youngster,"  said  he,  "  make  haste 
and  bestir  yourself.  Go  and  assist  the 
driver  of  the  two  yoke  of  oxen  there  to 


48 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


unload  his  cart  of  the  timber  into  the 
road." 

Now  Edmund  had  been  hard  at  work 
with  his  own  hired  man,  loading  the 
wagon  to  take  the  timber  to  a  farmer 
three  miles  off,  to  whom  it  was  sold  by 
his  father;  the  waggon  and  teams  both 
belonged  to  the  Pattisons. 

"  Hurry,  sir,"  said  the  light-horseman. 

Edmund  firmly  replied,  "  I  shall  not 
do  it." 

"  What,  sirrah  !  we  shall  see  who  will 
do  it ; "  and  drawing  his  sword,  he  held 
it  over  the  head  of  Edmund,  cursing 
and  swearing,  and  threatening  to  cut 
him  down,  unless  he  instantly  unloaded, 
and  took  his  team,  and  helped  to  carry 
in  it  provisions  for  the  army. 

With  unblanched  cheek  Edmund  Pat- 
tison  reiterated  his  denial,  and  told  him 
to  do  it  himself. 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Incensed  and  enraged  beyond  mea 
sure  at  such  a  contempt  of  orders,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  man  must  strike 
and  kill  the  stubborn  boy,  who,  firm 
and  undaunted,  said  not  a  word. 

At  this  time  our  Charles,  who  was  on 
the  spot,  ran  to  the  house  and  told  Mrs. 
Pattison  that  "  the  Britisher  was  going  to 
kill  her  Edmund." 

Her  cry  it  was  that  we  heard  from  the 
porch.  She  ran  to  the  barn,  and  begged 
the  soldier  to  desist.  He  was  more 
furious  than  ever,  supposing  the  fear  of 
the  mother  would  induce  compliance ; 
she  too  expostulated  with  her  son,  im 
ploring  him  to  assist  in  unloading  the 
wagon,  and  save  himself  from  death. 

"No  fear  of  death,  mother;  he  dare 
not  touch  a  hair  of  my  head."  The 
boy  was  more  determined  than  before, 
and  the  soldier  more  enraged,  flourish- 


American  Revolution. 


ing  his  sabre,  and  swearing  that  he  would 
be  the  death  of  him. 

"  You  dare  not.  I  will  report  you  to 
your  master  for  this,"  said  Edmund,  very 
boldly.  Upon  this  the  light-horseman 
mounted  his  horse,  and  told  the  brave 
Edmund  once  more,  that  if  he  did  not 
instantly  comply  with  his  request  he 
would  cut  him  into  inch  pieces ! 

Edmund  coolly  walked  across  the 
barn-floor,  armed  himself  with  a  huge 
pitchfork,  and  took  his  station  in  the 
doorway. 

u  You  cowardly  rascal,"  said  he,  "  take 
one  step  towards  this  floor,  and  I  stab 
you  with  my  pitchfork  ! " 

His  mother  could  endure  the  scene 
no  longer;  she  ran  to  the  house,  where 
she  met  her  husband,  and  sent  him  to 
rescue  Edmund.  Friend  Pattison,  a  sen 
sible,  clear-headed  man,  rode  up,  and 

51 


>776 


American  Revolution. 


Saturday, 

Nov.  27. 


seeing  matters  at  this  high  pass  on  both 
sides,  said  to  the  Britisher,  "  You  know 
your  duty,  and  have  no  right  to  lay  a 
finger  on  him,  a  non-combatant  on  neu 
tral  ground." 

Seeing  no  signs  of  relenting,  farmer 
Pattison  turned  his  horse  into  the  direc 
tion  of  the  road,  and  said  he  would  soon 
see  Colonel  Wurms,  and  know  who  had 
the  power  to  abuse  and  threaten  the  far 
mers  of  the  country  in  such  a  manner. 

The  light-horseman  was  now  alarmed, 
and  thinking  it  best  to  get  there  first, 
put  spurs  into  his  horse,  and  rode  off, 
uttering  awful  imprecations. 

Thus  this  time  Edmund  escaped, 
though  I  very  much  fear  his  defying, 
fearless  spirit  may  yet  cost  him  dear. 

"DECEIVED  a  few  hasty  lines  from 
White    Plains.     They  mention  an 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


engagement  on  the  28th  October;  "re 
treated  with  loss."  The  aspect  of  affairs 
is  gloomy  indeed.  I  cannot  but  feel 
despondent.  Where  is  it  to  end,  and  how  ? 
The  army  is  greatly  reduced  by  killed, 
wounded,  and  taken,  and  those  whose 
enlistments  have  expired  daily  leaving; 
the  poor  creatures  remaining,  many 
without  shoes  or  comfortable  clothing, 
are  sadly  disheartened.  The  enemy 
have  possession  of  the  city  of  New 
York,  of  Staten  Island,  and  of  Long 
Island.  Who  can  look  without  trem 
bling  at  the  failure  of  this  struggle  to 
throw  off  our  yoke  *?  The  reins  drawn 
tighter,  more  oppressed  and  circum 
scribed,  and  the  examples  made  of 
rebels — it  is  fearful  to  think  of. 

It  must  have  been  an  affecting  sight 
to  witness  the  enthusiasm  of  the  poor, 
barefooted,  ragged,  hungry  troops,  toss- 


53 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


ing  up  their  crownless  hats  in  the  air, 
when,  on  his  white  charger,  the  general 
rode  into  camp  ! 

I  will  confess  a  womanly  admiration 
of  a  noble  exterior.  Washington's  in 
fluence  and  authority  must  be  enhanced 
by  his  gallant  bearing  and  commanding 
figure,  as  he  sits  his  proud  steed. 

You  never  look  at  the  possibility  of 
failure.  It  is  the  cause  of  liberty,  the 
cause  of  humanity;  yet  your  letter 
breathes  discouragement.  We  are  so 
far  separated,  there  is  so  much  uncer 
tainty,  and  war  is  so  sorrowful,  that  I 
sometimes  feel  a  longing  to  fly  with  you 
to  a  place  of  peace  and  safety. 

Adieu !  The  little  ones  are  well ; 
they  (blissful  things !)  know  not  the 
care  and  anxiety  of 

Your  fond  and  foreboding  wife. 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


'IPHE  depredations,  robberies,  and  not 
seldom  murders,  committed  by  the 
Cow-Boys  and  Runners,  are  alarming, 
and  exasperating  the  people  in  the  ex 
treme.  The  farmers  suffer  dreadfully 
from  the  levying,  taxing,  and  quartering 
upon  them  of  the  Hessians  and  British 
soldiers.  They  are  very  insolent,  mak 
ing  most  unreasonable  demands,  and  the 
meek-spirited,  unresisting  Quakers  are 
martyrs  to  their  lawlessness  and  rapacity. 
There  are  two  homesteads  besides  our 
own  which  border  The  Pond.  It  is  a 
beautiful  little  sheet  of  water.  My 
father  often  says  it  would,  in  the  old 
countries,  be  called  a  lake,  tarn,  or  some 
other  pretty  name.  Well,  it  would  not 
any  more  enliven  our  prospect  as  it  spar 
kles  in  the  sun,  and  grows  dark  and 
shadowy  in  the  twilight.  Nor  would 
Charley  delight  the  more  to  sail  his 


December. 


]776 


American  Revolution. 


mimic  ship,  or  paddle  the  canoe  upon 
its  bosom,  than  he  does  now  the  live 
long  day.  There  is  a  small  island  in 
the  centre,  which  is  called  after  the  silly 
birds  which  dearly  love  to  swim  the 
water,  land  thereon,  flap  and  dry  their 
wings;  and  scream  their  pleasure — Goose 
Island. 


Monday.  J^ENRY  PATTISON,  the  nearest 
neighbor,  has  eight  sturdy  sons,  and 
one  little  timid  daughter.  He  belongs  to 
the  Society  of  Friends,  is  a  fine  specimen 
of  humanity,  owns  a  valuable  farm,  yet 
has  a  pretty  hard  struggle  to  bring  up 
his  large  family.  He  was  beginning  to 
prosper  a  little,  when  the  war  began; 
but  he  is  a  mild,  patient,  pious  man, 
consulted  in  all  troubles  and  difficulties 
the  whole  country  round;  has  prevented 
much  going  to  law;  visits  the  sick  in 

56 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


soul  and  in  body,  and  relieves  them  by 
his  judicious  advice,  temporal  and  spi 
ritual.  He  is  called  hereabouts  The 
Peace-Maker. 

Friend  Pattison  appears  to  have  nei 
ther  "part  nor  lot"  in  the  struggle  in 
which  the  country  is  engaged.  How 
strange  !  To  fie  a  man,  and  remain  neutral! 
His  soul  abhors  War.  This  principle  of 
their  sect  is  enrooted  in  his  breast.  Yet 
he  is  a  severe  sufferer  from  it.  Six  Hes 
sians  are  quartered  upon  him.  They 
took  possession  of  the  kitchen;  swung 
up  their  hammocks;  cook  his  (the  far 
mer's)  food,  and  hang  about,  smoking 
and  drinking  the  live-long  day.  Dear, 
how  annoying !  When  shall  we  be  rid 
of  them? 

QENERAL    HOWE   has   issued   a 
proclamation    offering    pardon    to 

3*  57 


Thursday. 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


all  who  will  submit  to  royal  authority. 
Pardon  !  for  what  ?  A  just  indignation 
against  rights  trampled  upon ! 

It  is  said  that  many  wealthy  and  influ 
ential  persons  have  deserted  the  Ameri 
can  cause.  It  is  indeed  a  gloomy  hour ! 
But  we  must  triumph.  The  descendants 
of  those  who  sought  here  a  peaceful 
asylum  from  oppression, — Huguenots, 
Puritans,  Covenanters, — will  not  submit 
to  oppression  here.  They  will  defend 
it  with  their  lives.  The  ocean  rolled 
between  them  and  their  tyrants,  then, 
as  it  will  again.  It  is  God's  decree  that 
this  people  shall  be  free.  The  broad 
lands  of  this  new  continent  are  destined 
to  all  time  to  be  the  asylum  of  the 
Persecuted,  the  Poor,  the  Suffering ! 
Tyranny  here  shall  never  hold  his  bale 
ful  sway ! 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


A  E  HHE    impressments  of  men,   horses,      Monday. 

and  wagons,  to  carry  provender, 
hay,  and  soldiers,  about  the  country,  are 
unceasingly  going  on.  When  the  dread 
ful  work  begins,  the  light-horseman  is 
seen  flying  like  lightning  from  house  to 
house;  the  men  take  the  alarm,  and 
make  every  effort  to  get  out  of  the  way, 
and  to  hide  their  horses  and  wagons.  It 
is  very  difficult.  Many  a  noble  animal 
is  ruined,  worked  to  death.  When  the 
farmers  are  once  caught,  and  receive 
orders,  they  dare  not  disobey,  for  perse 
cution  is  sure  to  follow.  They  receive 
less  injury  by  complying. 

JTDITH  PATTISON  came  over  to      Tuesday. 

the  Parsonage  to-day  for  the  first 
time.  She  is  a  sweet  young  Quakeress; 
her  pure,  lovely,  and  attractive  looks  are 
indeed  winning.  She  wore  a  silvery 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


drab  poplin ;  the  sleeves  came  just  above 
the  elbow,  a  little  white  frill  below;  her 
arms  are  round  and  white.  She  wears 
always  a  neat  gauze  cap ;  it  is  thought 
unseemly  in  their  Society  that  a  young 
woman's  head  should  be  uncovered. 
She  is  very  fair,  though  her  hair  and 
eyes  are  dark ;  her  aspect  is  mild,  gentle, 
and  pensive.  I  can  describe  to  you  the 
outline  of  Edith's  features,  but  not  the 
spiritual  expression  of  her  face.  She  is 
made  a  perfect  lady  of  by  her  eight 
doting  brothers.  They  will  fetch,  and 
carry,  and  run  for  their  beautiful  sister, 
as  though  she  were  a  queen.  And  when 
you  look  at  her,  you  do  not  think  it 
strange,  her  air  and  mien  are  so  serene, 
and  dignity  sits  enthroned  upon  her 
brow. 

Doubtless  when  you  read  my  Journal, 
penned  for  your  eye,  you  will  exclaim, 


60 


American  Revolution. 


"  How  could  she  calmly  write  these  de 
tails  in  stirring  times  like  these  *? "  But 
remember,  Edward,  I  must  be  occupied 
about  something;  it  beguiles  the  atten 
tion,  and  keeps  off  sad  thoughts  of 
you,  which,  when  I  give  way  to  them, 
rend  my  heart.  My  precious  father's 
peace  is  disturbed,  and  even  the  dear 
children  appear  to  participate  in  the 
foreboding  gloom. 

'"PO-DAY  little  Marcia  found  me  weep 
ing  over  your  miniature.  She  took 
it  out  of  my  hand,  and  covering  it  with 
kisses,  said,  "  Oh,  that  is  my  dear  papa. 
He  is  a  brave  man,  is  he  not,  mamma  ? 
and  the  best  man  too  that  ever  lived. 
When  will  he  come  back  *?  " 

This  prattle  will  be   sweet  to  your 
ears,  for  it  comes  from  the  heart. 


Thursday. 


'776 


American  Revolution. 


Sunday.       *  i  AHE  church  was  opened  for  divine 
service    to-day.     It  was   unusually 
solemn;      many    officers    and    soldiers 
attended ;  they  were  serious  and  atten 
tive. 

Our  beautiful  clover-field  is  trampled 
upon  and  ruined.  My  dear  father  was 
so  fond  of  its  luxuriance  !  When  the 
dew  was  on  it,  the  air  came  laden 
with  delicious  odor,  regaling  us  when  we 
sat  in  the  porch.  The  children  used  to 
make  posies  and  wreaths  of  the  large  red 
and  white  flowers,  and  often  expatiated 
fondly  and  gratefully  on  the  rich  feast 
preparing  for  the  horse  and  brindle  cow, 
by  Him  who  "giveth  the  early  and  the 
latter  rain."  The  clover-seed  came  from 
England.  While  in  church  a  company 
of  fifty  horsemen  rode  into  the  field, 
and  quite  cropped  and  destroyed  it.  I 
have  persuaded  my  father  to  make 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


complaint  to  Colonel  Wurms ;  but  there 
is  no  redress. 


Tuesday, 


PRESS  for  horses  yesterday.  I 
will  relate  how  Charley  saved  our 
young  horse.  He  and  James  Pattison 
were  idly  sitting  on  the  fence,  the  other 
side  of  the  pond,  talking  indignantly 
of  the  insults  of  the  British,  to  whom 
the  former  shows  no  mercy,  when  they 
espied  a  light-horseman  at  the  door  -of  a 
farm-house.  They  knew  the  next  place 
would  be  Isaac  Willetts',  which,  though 
only  across  the  pond,  is  completely  hid 
from  our  view  by  a  stately  row  of  pop 
lars,  which  forms  a  leafy  screen;  and 
they  knew  his  errand  too,  that  he  would 
be  here  in  an  instant,  for  when  "press 
ing,"  they  gallop  from  house  to  house 
with  violent  speed. 

"  Fleetfoot  shall  not  go,"  said  Charles, 


'776 


American  Revolution. 


"without  an  effort  to  save  him;"  and 
running  with  all  his  might  to  the  barn, 
he  jumped  on  his  back,  and  made  for 
the  woods. 

On  the  instant  he  was  seen  by  the 
red-coat,  who  put  spurs  to  his  horse, 
and  came  on  a  full  run  towards  the 
wroods,  where  Charles  had  disappeared. 
My  heart  beat  quick  when  the  red-coat 
too  was  lost  to  sight.  My  dear,  brave 
child  might  fall  from  his  horse  and  be 
dashed  against  the  trees,  in  the  -hot  pur 
suit  of  the  light-horseman. 

My  father  and  I  sat  gazing  intently 
towards  the  woods,  awaiting  the  result 
in  breathless  anxiety,  astonished  at  the 
boy's  daring,  and  ready  to  reprove  his 
rash  spirit  in  attempting  to  save  the 
young  horse  at  the  risk  of  his  own 
safety. 

In  about  an  hour's  time  we  saw  the 

04 


American  Revolution.  177^ 

red-coat  come  out  of  the  woods  below; 
he  stopped  a  man  in  the  road,  and  made 
inquiries,  but  getting  no  satisfaction, 
rode  off,  muttering  curses. 

At  nightfall,  peeping  his  way  through 
the  wood,  Charles  made  his  appearance, 
still  mounted  on  his  favorite  Fleetfoot. 
By  signs  we  made  known  to  him  that 
the  danger  had  passed,  and  he  rode  up 
to  the  house.  Overjoyed  to  see  him, 
he  told  us  his  story,  which  Grace  and 
Marcia  drank  in  with  greedy  ears.  In 
deed  the  scene  in  the  porch  was  worthy 
of  Hogarth's  pencil.  On  one  side  was 
his  pale  affrighted  mother,  and  the  little 
girls,  with  eyes  open  wide  and  full  of 
wonder;  near  by,  the  venerable  grand 
father,  with  silver  locks  parted  upon  a 
peaceful  brow,  and  Charley  standing 
close  to  his  steed,  as  he  recounted  his 
wrongs  and  hairbreadth  escape,  leaning 


1776  American  Revolution. 

his  head  occasionally  against  his  proud 
neck,  so  that  my  son's  curls  of  gold 
mingled  with  the  ebon  mane  of  Fleet- 
foot. 

He  said  that  he  struck  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  woods,  going  from  one 
piece  to  another,  until  the  forest  became 
very  dense  and  dark.  He  rode  into  a 
tangled,  marshy  place,  where  he  stood 
five  hours  without  moving! 

At  one  time  he  heard  his  pursuer 
close  by;  heard  his  fearful  oaths,  heard 
him  lashing  the  sides  of  his  own  jaded 
horse.  Charley's  heart  beat  violently. 
But  the  bog  was  wet  and  gloomy,  and 
the  soldier's  ardor  was  dampened — he 
durst  not  venture.  So  Charles  and 
Fleetfoot  were  left  to  themselves  in 
the  deep  wood.  A  brave  feat  for  a 
boy  of  fourteen ! 


66 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


AN  officer  of  high  rank  is  in  winter 
quarters  with  us;  resistance  is  out 
of  the  question;  wounded  and  ill,  we 
deeply  sympathize  with  him.  Foe  or 
friend,  he  must  be  cared  for  compas 
sionately. 

j^JAJOR  MUSGRAVE  has  two  ser 
vants.  They  attend  upon  him 
assiduously,  but  we  can  minister  to  the 
mind  of  the  poor  gentleman,  and  by 
reading  and  conversing,  can  beguile  him 
sometimes  of  the  thought  of  his  situa 
tion. 

Oh,  dear  husband,  war  is  a  weari 
ness  !  Its  effects  sicken  the  soul.  Every 
hour  some  fresh  account  of  murder, 
robbery,  wounding,  destroying,  depre 
dating  ! 

When  will  this  unnatural  warfare  be 
at  an  end  *? 

G7 


December 


Tuesday. 


1776 


Wednesday 


American  Revolution. 


jyjAJOR  MUSGRAVE  is  very  ill 
to-day,  but  yet  considerate,  and 
full  of  the  thoughtful  courtesy  of  the  gen 
tleman.  What  a  blessed  thing  it  is,  that 
national  animosity  can  be  lost  sight  of, 
forgotten,  in  sorrow  and  compassion  for 
a  fellow-creature's  distress  !  It  leads  me 
constantly  to  bring  home  to  my  own 
thoughts  and  feelings  the  idea  of  a 
beloved  husband,  child,  or  brother,  in 
such  a  situation,  away  from  me  and  all 
that  he  loved ;  amid  those  against  whom 
his  hand  had  been  raised  in  warfare  ; 
wounded,  ill,  in  pain,  and  anguish  of 
spirit.  Should  I  not  cherish,  in  the  deep 
places  of  my  heart,  an  everlasting  grati 
tude  ?  And  should  I  not  teach  it  reli 
giously  to  my  children,  to  those  who  had 
thus  ministered  unto  mine  own  ? 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


"VTO  public  news  this  many  a  day. 
My  womanish  fears,  as  you  name 
them,  get  the  better  of  me.  The  dis 
parity  between  the  contending  parties  is 
so  immense.  The  mother  country,  the 
first  maritime  power  on  the  globe ;  her 
great  wealth,  vast  resources,  well  disci 
plined  armies,  experienced  military  and 
naval  commanders.  What  have  the 
Colonies  to  oppose  to  such  an  array  of 
means  and  power  *? 

Inexperienced  officers;  raw,  undisci 
plined  troops;  scant  arms  and  muni 
tions  of  war;  small  revenue ;  few  armed 
ships ! 

Be  still,  my  anxious  heart!  "All 
things  are  possible  to  them  that  believe." 
"  By  faith  we  can  remove  mountains." 
Mountains  they  appear  when  we  look 
at  human  means,  which  seem  utterly 
inadequate.  But  "the  race  is  not  to 


Friday. 


American  Revolution. 


Monday. 


the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong." 
What  is  this  struggle  of  the  Colonies  *? 
Is  it  a  war  of  aggression,  of  cupidity,  of 
^conquest,  of  fierce  passion,  for  tyranny 
and  despotic  sway?  No  —  it  is  the 
noble  endeavor,  the  strong  purpose, 
founded  in  inalienable  right,  to  throw 
off  a  galling  yoke  unjustly  and  perse- 
veringly  imposed.  It  is  the  cry  of 
humanity  against  oppression,  usurped 
power,  insolence,  and  rapacity.  Will 
it.  prevail,  or  will  it  be  smothered? 
Will  those  evils,  from  which  our  fathers 
fled  to  this  new-found  country,  like 
hydra-headed  monsters,  raise  here  their 
heads,  nor  be  smitten  ? 


neighbors  feel  in  Major  Mus- 
grave  an  involuntary  interest.  Sym 
pathy  forms  this  bond.  They  call  often 
to  see  him,  and  inquire  about  him,  and 


American  Revolution. 


1776 


bring  nice  things  to  tempt  the  sick  man's 
appetite.  Such  attentions  touch  him 
sensibly.  The  wound  is  very  bad;  it 
has  induced  a  high  fever.  He  is  patient 
and  uncomplaining,  which  is  ten  times 
more  touching  than  if  he  were  cross  and 
irritable. 


T  CANNOT  but  be  powerfully  moved 
by  the  wounded  man  who  lies  below. 
His  heroic  patience  in  such  deep  suffer 
ing  is  to  be  greatly  admired;  also  his 
consideration  of  others  in  the  midst  of 
it.  He  seems  to  forget  himself,  in 
the  dread  of  giving  trouble  and  incon 
venience.  My  father  says  it  is  the  gift 
of  God — Grace,  which  enables  him  to 
triumph  over  the  pains  of  the  body.  I 
asked  Major  Musgrave  if  he  had  always 
endured  suffering  so  patiently?  He 
replied,  "  I  have  not  borne  mental  trials 


Tuesday. 


1776 


American  Revolution. 


Dec. 

1776. 


with  patience  or  meekness;  they  are  more 
difficult  to  endure  than  bodily  pain." 
He  has  before  made  allusion  to  some 
great  sorrow  which  he  has  experi 
enced. 

'""PHE  year  has  closed  disastrous, 
gloomy;  panic  and  despair  reign 
in  many  a  breast.  All  the  future  is  un 
certain  ;  none  can  foretell  what  another 
year  may  bring  forth.  Our  great  com 
mander  is  still  hopeful;  although  he 
prays  Congress  for  more  effort  and  assist 
ance,  he  never  speaks  a  discouraging 
word  as  to  the  result  of  the  struggle. 
If  Congress  would  appropriate  more 
money,  and  men  could  be  enlisted  on 
longer  terms,  say  during  the  war,  and 
properly  equipped,  greater  things  could 
be  done.  Now,  no  sooner  are  they 
organized,  and  become  a  little  drilled, 


American  Revolution. 


'777 


than  the  term  of  enlistment  expires,  and 
raw  recruits  take  their  place. 


Jan.  \$th. 


of  the  Battle  of  Princeton. 
My  husband  safe,  thank  Heaven ! 
General  Washington  victorious  ;  Gene 
ral  Mercer  mortally  wounded  !  How  the 
thoughts  of  his  loved  ones  rush  to  my 
heart !  God  have  mercy  upon  them  ! 
The  Commander-in-Chief,  by  his  judg 
ment,  skill,  and  cool  intrepidity,  has 
struck  the  enemy  with  surprise.  They 
have  looked  with  contempt  on  our  raw 
men,  many  of  whom  never  saw  a  battle. 
They  expected  to  crush  us;  to  quell 
with  ease,  by  their  giant  power,  the 
rebels,  as  the  lord  of  the  forest  crushes 
the  insects  beneath  his  feet.  With  all 
Major  Musgrave's  politeness,  this  is  dis 
coverable. 

They  forget  the  deep-rooted  indigna- 


American  Revolution. 


Thursday. 


Friday. 


tion  which  burns  in  our  breasts  ;  the 
determination  to  be  free,  animating  the 
whole  colonies  with  one  heart  and  pur 
pose,  to  do  and  dare  for  liberty,  or  death  ! 


Major  is  rather  better;  the 
wound  appears  to  be  healing,  but 
he  is  miserably  weak  and  ill.  I  went 
into  his  room  to-day  rather  unexpect 
edly;  he  appeared  to  have  a  miniature 
in  his  hand,  and  put  it  hastily  aside.  I 
asked  no  questions,  of  course. 

QENERAL    WASHINGTON   has 

completely  dislodged  the  British 
along  the  Delaware  river,  and  recovered 
almost  the  whole  province  of  New  Jer 
sey.  Does  it  not  teach  man  to  look  to 
Him,  and  remember  who  it  is  that 
blesses  the  means,  when  to  mortal  view 
they  seem  totally  inadequate  ? 

74 


American  Revolution. 


trials  in  this  quarter,  I  have  no 
doubt,  appear  to  you  trifling,  and 
insignificant.  In  comparison  with  the 
great  sacrifices  and  noble  deeds  now 
enacting  on  a  broader  field,  they  are  so. 
Nevertheless  they  are  irritating  and  ex 
asperating  in  the  extreme,  and  hard  to 
be  borne.  Were  I  to  undertake  to 
relate  the  injuries,  insults,  horrors,  and 
sufferings  our  poor  farmers  are  subject 
to,  I  should  never  finish  the  story.  They 
take  the  fence  rails  to  burn,  so  that  the 
fields  are  all  left  open,  and  the  cattle 
stray  away  and  are  often  lost ;  burn  fires 
all  night  on  the  ground,  and  to  replenish 
them,  go  into  the  woods  and  cut  down 
all  the  young  saplings,  thereby  destroy 
ing  the  growth  of  ages.  But  worse 
than  all,  robbers  come  over  from  the 
main  shore  in  boats,  and  keep  us  in 
constant  alarm !  They  belong  to  no 


Monday. 


American  Revolution. 


Wednesday. 


party,  and  spare  none;  freebooters, 
cowardly  midnight  assassins,  incendi 
aries,  indiscriminate,  bold,  and  daring. 
"  Their  hand  is  against  every  man,  and 
every  man's  hand  is  against  them." 

We  have  been  spared  as  yet  on  ac 
count  of  the  Hessians  and  officer,  which 
are  quartered  here,  whom  they  fear. 
Thus  "  some  strange  comfort  every  state 
attends." 

'IPHE  soldiers  take  so  much  notice  of 
the  children,  that  I  fear  lest  they 
should  contract  evil,  especially  Charles. 
They  have  taught  him  to  speak  their 
language ;  he  understands  nearly  all 
their  conversation.  They  make  pretty 
willow  baskets  for  Marcia  and  Grace, 
and  tell  them  of  their  own  little  ones  at 
home,  over  the  stormy  ocean.  The 
children  are  fond  of  them,  and  they  feel 


American  Revolution. 


1777 


no  enmity  towards  them.  What  is 
more  melancholy  than  the  trade  of  a 
hired  soldier  *?  I  deeply  commiserate 
their  wretched  lot.  Nothing  to  ennoble 
the  contest;  no  homes  and  hearths  to 
fight  for;  no  country  to  save;  no  free 
dom  to  bleed  and  die  for.  It  may  be 
"  sweet  and  proper  for  our  country  to 
die,"  as  saith  the  old  Roman,  but  it  is 
bitter  servitude  to  risk  life  and  limb  for 
lucre ;  and  revolting,  sickening,  to  serve 
in  a  cause  by  which  we  have  nothing  to 
gain  in  victory,  or  to  lose  in  defeat ! 


A  MOST  daring  deed  was  perpe 
trated  last  night  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  us.  Mr.  Robert  Lester  is 
a  Tory,  and  has  been  somewhat  active. 
He  was  awakened  at  midnight  by  a 
loud  crash;  it  was  occasioned  by  an  im 
mense  stone  thrown  with  violent  force 


Tuesday. 


1777 


American  Revolution. 


Thursday. 


against  the  front  door,  which  broke  in. 
The  robbers  entered  the  house.  They 
ordered  Mr.  Lester  to  dress  himself  in 
stantly;  he  dared  not  disobey,  being 
completely  in  their  power ;  he  was  blind 
folded,  taken  to  the  harbor,  placed  in 
the  light  craft  which  they  call  "  whale- 
boats,"  and  rowed  over  to  the  main  shore, 
seven  miles.  The  villains  will  sell  him 
to  the  Whig  Committee  of  Safety. 

'TPHE  army  in  winter  quarters  at  Mor- 
ristown.     Depredation  and  destruc 
tion  going  on  about  here. 

Major  Musgrave  sits  up  an  hour  or 
two  every  day;  he  powerfully  awakens 
my  sympathy.  Do  not  be  frightened, 
my  husband.  Pity,  admiration  of  his 
patient  endurance,  no  other  sentiment 
can  animate  my  breast.  He  is  our  coun 
try's  foe,  but  circumstances  have  made 


American  Revolution. 


1777 


him  so ;  and  he  said  to  me  this  day,  "  It 
is  a  wicked  war,  and  if  it  please  God  to 
raise  me  up,  I  shall  never  again  engage 
in  it." 

CPRING  is  again  opening,  and  the 
war  seems  just  begun! 

A  young  French  nobleman  has  ar 
rived,  having  embraced  voluntarily  the 
American  cause ;  the  love  of  freedom, 
and  a  desire  to  succor  the  oppressed, 
were  his  only  incentives.  The  Marquis 
de  la  Fayette  has  been  appointed  a 
Major-Gene ral.  He  is  not  twenty  years 
of  age.  A  man  of  wealth,  and  used  to 
the  luxury  of  a  court. 

Our  cause  assumes  consequence  in 
the  eyes  of  foreign  powers.  Even  poor 
Major  Musgrave  speaks  with  greater 
moderation  of  probable  success  in  quell 
ing  "the  revolt." 


March  6th. 


American  Revolution. 


Monday. 


JAMES  PARKER,  a  farmer  near  by, 
was  driving  home  late  last  evening, 
from  the  town;  the  night  was  uncom 
monly  dark  ;  he  passed  a  large  tree  ; 
behind  it  stood  a  man  with  a  loaded 
gun.  A  voice  called  out  to  the  travel 
ler  to  stop;  it  was  unheeded.  The 
rcbber  fired  and  hit  him  ;  he  fell  off  his 
seat  and  expired  ! 

The  horses  took  fright,  and  running 
three  miles,  came  to  a  noted  tavern 
kept  by  Increase  Carpenter,  where  they 
stopped  under  a  shed,  and  stood  still  un 
til  morning,  when  they  were  discovered 
with  their  sad  burthen,  the  dead  man  ! 
The  goods  in  the  wagon  were  of  course 
untouched,  owing  to  the  horses  running 
away.  The  indignation  of  the  people 
is  without  bounds,  and  very  active  mea 
sures  of  defence  are  talked  of. 


so 


American  Revolution. 


took  Edith  into  Major  Mus- 
grave's  room,  he  having  expressed 
a  wish  to  see  the  kind  lady  who  had  sent 
him  so  many  delicacies  made  by  her 
own  hand.  She  has  many  admirers; 
soldiers  and  ploughmen,  lettered  and 
unlearned,  the  peaceful  disciple  of  her 
own  quiet  sect,  and  the  officer  with 
epauletted  shoulder  and  sword  on  side. 
She  is  lovely  and  captivating,  but 

"  Securely  she  smiles  on  the  forward  and  bold, 
They  feel  what  they  owe  her,  and  feel  it  untold." 

Yesterday  I  saw  her  pass  the  window 
with  a  gallant  at  her  side.  The  contrast 
between  them — she  in  her  little  close 
bonnet,  grey  dress,  and  sober  mien,  and 
the  gay  officer  in  scarlet  regimentals- 
was  very  striking.  Edith's  eyes  were 
cast  down  to  the  ground,  while  his  were 
fixed  upon  her  sweet  face  pleadingly. 


Thursday. 


1777 


American  Revolution. 


I  heard  him  say,  in  a  low  tone,  "  Oh, 
Edith,  how  shall  I  win  your  favor  ?  " 

I  can  tell  him ;  he  will  not  win  it 
unless  he  relinquish  the  warrior's  craft. 
To  Edith,  all  "the  pomp  and  circum 
stance  of  glorious  war"  is  shrouded  in 
gloom.  "  The  shrill  fife  and  spirit- 
stirring  drum  "  drowneth  not  in  her  ear 
the  groan  of  the  wounded,  the  cry  of 
the  dying.  Amid  the  din  of  arms,  she 
listeneth  to  the  widow's  wail ;  and  when 
the  shout  of  victory  rises,  she  sees  the 
orphan's  tears ! 

Do  you  know,  dear  husband,  that 
papa  and  I  are  much  of  her  way  of 
thinking  of  late?  although  it  needed 
not  Edith's  eloquent  defence  of  peace 
to  convince  us.  I  long  for  the  hasten 
ing  of  the  day  when  "  the  nations  shall 
not  learn  war  any  more,  nor  lift  up 
sword  against  nation;  but  the  sword 


American  Revolution. 


shall  be  turned  into   the    ploughshare, 
and  the  spear  into  the  pruning  hook." 
I  suppose  you  will  say,  "  So  be  it"- 
after  our  independence  is  secured ! 


vines  are  putting  forth;  the 
grass  is  springing;  all  nature  has 
put  on  her  lovely  garb  of  green.  The 
children  are  full  of  joy;  it  is  difficult  to 
keep  them  to  their  tasks;  but  through 
the  long  winter  they  have  been  more 
industrious.  Charles  is  quite  a  profi 
cient  in  study,  his  grandpa  thinks.  I 
hope  you  may  not  have  reason  to  be 
ashamed  of  him.  This  weary  absence 
maketh  sick  the  heart;  but  I  will  not 
dwell  upon  the  sad  subject;  it  pains 
you  to  hear  me  repine.  I  trust  God  in 
his  providence  will  so  order  the  course 
of  events,  that  all  will  work  together  for 
good.  I  will  try  to  bear  without  mur- 


Tuesday, 
May  ist. 


American  Revolution. 


Thursday. 


Friday. 


muring   whatever    He    in    his    wisdom 
may  send. 

"  They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait." 

jyjAJOR  MUSGRAVE'S  wound  is 
quite  healed,  but  he  is  still  low 
and  feeble.  Nature  appears  to  have 
struggled  hard  with  some  deep  inward 
grief,  which  is  striving  for  the  mastery; 
he  has  great  fortitude,  but  may,  notwith 
standing,  sink  under  it.  I  fear  so.  I 
would  not  for  worlds  intrude  on  his  pri 
vate  sorrows ;  but  oh,  that  I  could  share 
and  alleviate  themf 

'TPHE  farmers  have  devised  a  scheme 
to  make  known  through  the  neigh 
borhood  the  presence  of  the  "  Runners." 
They  are  generally  seen  lurking  about 
at  twilight,  spying  the  points  most  favor 
able  for  attack ;  if  observed,  they  walk 


American  Revolution. 


on  in  an  unconcerned  manner,  whistling 
or  singing.  Sometimes  they  will  stop, 
and  inquire  the  way  to  some  place ; 
suddenly  disappearing,  they  are  unex 
pectedly  seen  again  in  the  edge  of  the 
wood,  or  from  behind  a  hay-stack  in  the 
field,  peering  about,  terrifying  every 
body,  above  all  women  and  children. 
These  signs  are  not  to  be  mistaken. 
We  are  on  our  guard;  the  "great  gun" 
with  which  all  are  provided;  is  loaded 
and  fired  off.  Pop !  Pop !  go  the 
answering  guns  for  five  miles  round; 
each  house  takes  up  the  alarming  tale, 
and  thus  it  spreads,  warning  of  impend 
ing  danger,  and  frightens  away  the 
enemy,  for  that  time  at  any  rate. 

J^EIGHBOR  Pattison,  of  his  peace- 
loving    spirit,    and    horror   of  the 
"  murderous  weapon,"  hath  made  a  large 

85 


1777 


Aug. 


777 


American  Revolution. 


Tuesday. 


Wednesday. 


conch-shell  do  the  office  of  a  gun;  it 
makes  a  noble  sound,  and  being  close 
in  our  vicinity,  is  a  well-known  signal. 
Charles  no  sooner  hears  it,  than  he  is  on 
the  alert ;  out  comes  papa's  rusty  great 
gun,  whose  loud  report  is  soon  responded 
to  by  the  whole  neighborhood. 

(CONGRESS  has  passed  important 
resolutions,  and  increased  General 
Washington's  power,  investing  him  with 
unlimited  command.  They  are  endea 
voring  to  rouse  the  people  by  an  impres 
sive  Address.  Benjamin  Franklin,  Silas 
Deane,  and  Arthur  Lee,  are  sent  to  so 
licit  aid  of  foreign  powers. 

jyjAJOR  MUSGRAVE  seems  very 

feeble ;  it  is  doubtful  whether  he 

survives  the  winter.     It  is  affecting  to 

see  him,  he  is  so  weak  and  helpless,  yet 


American  Revolution.  llll 

patient  and  uncomplaining.  On  going 
into  his  room  to-day,  he  appeared  to  be 
reading  old  letters,  and  was  evidently 
much  moved.  I  assured  him  of  my 
hearty  sympathy ;  he  said  with  emotion, 
"Oh,  dear  madam,  why  do  you  pity 
me  ?  you,  who  know  nought  of  the  past." 

"  I  do  commiserate  your  present  con 
dition  ;  is  it  not  enough  to  call  it  forth  ?  " 

"  It  may  be,"  replied  Major  Mus- 
grave.  "But  there  are  sufferings  so 
deep,  that  the  lassitude  and  decay  of 
the  body,  although  wrought  by  them, 
are  unheeded,  swallowed  up  by  their 
intensity;  even  the  pang  of  death  is 
subdued  by  the  peace  which  it  heralds." 

As  the  Major  did  not  offer  to  unbur 
den  his  mind  to  me,  I  took  up  Bishop 
Jeremy  Taylor's  "  Holy  Living  and 
Dying,"  which  my  father  so  de!:ghteth 
in,  and  asked  whether  I  should  read  to 


1777 


American  Revoluti 


'ion. 


September.' 


him.    He  assented  gratefully,  and  I  read 
an  appropriate  comforting  passage. 


of  the  battle  of  Brandywine. 
The  troops  mostly  fought  bravely, 
but  the  day  was  against  us.  The  young 
French  marquis  is  wounded;  my  hus 
band,  I  trust,  is  safe.  Let  me  continue 
to  put  my  trust  in  the  Almighty  arm. 
He  only  can  deliver. 

My  father  frequently  sits  an  hour  or 
two  with  the  Major,  whose  mind  is 
enriched  to  a  degree  that  makes  him 
an  instructive,  as  well  as  a  delightful, 
companion.  Even  religious  subjects  my 
dear  father  does  not  avoid  (he  could 
not  if  he  would)  ;  he  tells  me  that  he 
finds  in  the  Major  an  understanding  lis 
tener,  appreciating  states  of  mind  and 
points  of  faith,  which  he  scarcely  ex 
pected  from  one  in  his  walk  of  life. 


American  Revolution. 


were  awakened  in  the  dead  of 
night  by  the  sound  of  the  conch- 
shell  !  Oh,  dear  husband,  I  cannot  de 
scribe  to  you  our  consternation.  Our 
turn,  I  thought,  had  at  length  come ! 
My  first  thought  was  my  precious  father, 
old  and  feeble ;  the  second  of  the  poor 
Major.  They  have  both  rooms  on  the 
first  floor.  The  children  clung  to  me 
with  terror.  I  felt  so  powerless !  Not 
so  Charles,  he  was  bold  as  a  lion — your 
true  son !  He  promptly  got  out  the 
great  gun,  and  loaded  and  fired  it,  which 
more  than  all  frightened  poor  Marcia, 
and  Grace.  In  vain  I  bade  them  be 
pacified;  they  hid  their  faces  in  my 
gown;  the  little  things  trembled  with 
fear. 

Major  Musgrave  ordered  his  two  men 
to  their  points  of  defence.  I  persuaded 
papa  to  go  up  stairs ;  he  appeared  calm 


Nov.  loth. 


1777  American  Revolution. 

and  self-possessed  amid  our  agitation. 
We  now  listened  intently ;  not  a  sound 
did  we  hear,  but  the  ticking  of  the  great 
clock,  and  our  own  beating  hearts. 
Again  and  again  we  listened ;  all  was 
still.  We  remained  almost  motionless 
until  the  dawn  of  day.  The  first  ray  of 
light  was  hailed  with  joy.  Charles  stole 
over  to  neighbor  Pattison's,  expecting, 
yet  dreading  to  hear  a  tale  of  horror, 
when  lo !  they  greeted  him  with  a  great 
burst  of  laughter!  Now,  what  think 
you  was  the  cause,  the  innocent  cause  of 
all  this  fear  and  consternation?  Little 
Joseph  Pattison !  This  is  the  story  of 
it: 

At  noon  the  elder  boys,  while  stand 
ing  around  the  porch,  one  after  the  other 
had  been  trying  the  strength  of  their 
lungs  on  the  great  conch-shell,  calling 
the  hired  men  to  their  dinner.  Joseph 


American  Revolution. 


'777 


was  eagerly  waiting  his  turn,  but  it  never 
came  at  all.  The  meal  was  ready,  the 
shell  was  put  away  on  the  high  shelf 
over  the  door,  and  dinner  over  they 
all  went  to  work  again. 

Now  little  Joseph's  imagination  that 
night,  strongly  impressed  with  his  dis 
appointment,  ran  upon  robbers,  and  the 
urgent  necessity  of  sounding  the  shell. 
Up  he  sprang,  ran  down  stairs,  through 
two  rooms,  still  asleep,  took  a  chair, 
reached  the  conch,  and  blew  it  most 
lustily  outside  the  back  door,  which 
roused  the  household.  Down  they 
come,  and  their  astonishment  is  great 
to  behold  the  little  boy  with  the  sea- 
shell  in  his  hand,  and,  though  undressed 
and  barefooted,  perspiration  standing  in 
beads  on  his  forehead  from  the  violent 
exertion  !  Would  that  our  frights  might 
always  prove  as  groundless  ! 


777 


American  Revolution. 


Monday. 


every  Monday  exercising  is  prac 
tised  opposite  our  house.  To-day, 
when  the  manoeuvring  was  over,  a  man 
who  had  been  found  intoxicated  the 
night  before,  was  stripped  and  whipped 
severely,  with  a  rattan,  till  the  blood 
streamed  down  his  back.  Oh,  it  is 
dreadful  to  witness  such  horrors !  I 
fled  from  the  sight,  but  the  heart-pierc 
ing  cries  of  the  poor  creature  followed 
me.  I  could  no  longer  refrain  from 
running  out  of  the  house,  and  begging 
them  to  desist.  They  paid  no  attention, 
and  closed  the  gate  upon  me.  The  rat 
tan  struck  his  cheek,  perhaps  by  acci 
dent,  cut  it  open,  and  it  bled  terribly ! 
I  screamed  out  "  MURDER  ! "  They  were 
startled,  and  stopped.  The  appealing 
look  of  gratitude  I  received  from  the 
poor  maimed  soldier  was  sweet  reward. 
Mary  Pattison,  whose  sympathy  for 


American  Revolution.  1777 

the  suffering  never  failed,  took  the  poor 
creature  in;  commiserating  his  pitiful 
condition,  she  dressed  his  wounds,  which 
were  frightfully  deep,  and  like  the  good 
Samaritan,  poured  in  the  oil  of  conso 
lation. 

The  principles  of  this  peace-loving 
Society  are  destined  one  day  to  cover 
the  earth  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea. 
They  are  the  same  which  our  blessed 
Redeemer  came  to  reveal,  and  sealed 
with  his  blood.  They  are  Eternal 
Truth.  "  Love  to  God,  and  good  will 
to  man,"  He  proclaimed  ;  and  Love  is 
written  on  the  white  ensign  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace  ! 


of  agony  and  nights  of  tears       Friday. 
are  my  experience  ;   the  agony  of 
suspense,  the  tears  of  widowhood  !     In 
imagination   I   have    no  longer  a    hus- 


1777  American  Revolution. 


band  !  He  is  slain  on  the  field  of  battle, 
of  which  no  tidings  have  come ;  or  the 
victim  of  neglected  wounds  and  dis 
ease,  he  is  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 
If  alive  and  at  liberty,  we  surely  should 
long  ago  have  heard  from  him.  How 
can  I  endure  it?  Oh,  God,  endue  me 
with  patience,  or  I  sink!  Thy  pro 
tection  is  for  those  who  trust  in  thee. 
Do  I  ?  Oh,  Lord,  help  me,  I  pray 
thee ! 

My  father  meekly  reproves  my  impa 
tience,  and  so  does  Major  Musgrave. 
The  long-suffering  of  the  Quakers  is 
also  a  loud  rebuke.  The  words  of  our 
blessed  Saviour  seem  to  be  held  by  them 
in  sacred  remembrance :  "  I  was  sick, 
and  ye  ministered  unto  me ;  naked,  and 
ye  clothed  me  ;  hungry,  and  ye  fed  me  ; 
in  prison,  and  ye  visited  me." 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


'VVT'HAT  extremes  there  are  in  life  ! 

Robert  Adams  came  last  night 
to  ask  my  father  to  unite  him  to  Rose 
Wilson.  It  was  strange  to  see  two 
happy  faces  amid  violence,  gloom,  and 
destruction.  I  was  saddened  when  I 
thought  how  soon  the  joy  beaming  there 
would  be  clouded  over  in  these  stormy 
times.  Rut  when  my  father,  whose  heart 
is  full  of  heavenly  grace,  pronounced  his 
benediction  upon  the  young,  hopeful 
couple,  mine  responded  a  deep.  "  Amen" 

Marcia  went  into  the  other  room,  and 
picked  two  white  rosebuds  off  her  bush, 
and  some  geranium  leaves,  which  she 
tied  up  and  gave  to  the  sweet  bride, 
who  in  purity  and  grace  could  almost 
vie  with  the  flowers. 

The  ceremony  was  performed  in  Ma 
jor  Musgrave's  room,  at  his  request. 
He  was  much  affected,  and  gave  them 


Jan.  loth. 


1778  American  Revolution. 

each  at  parting  a  gold  piece,  and  the 
blessing,  he  said,  of  a  dying  man. 

After  they  departed,  Major  Musgrave 
said  to  me, ''  Madam,  will  you  do  me  the 
favor  to  sit  with  me  a  while  ?  I  would 
unburden  my  mind  while  I  have  strength, 
and  make  a  few  requests  of  you." 

His  faithful  servant,  Shultz,  stood  at 
the  back  of  his  chair.  He  is  as  atten 
tive  as  a  woman  could  be  to  the  comfort 
and  wants  »of  his  master,  and  a  love  and 
pity  passing  hers,  if  that  could  be,  speaks 
in  his  face.  He  talked  in  a  low  tone, 
and  walked  quietly  about  the  room. 

The  Major  intimated  to  him  that  he 
would  be  alone  with  me  for  a  little  time. 
He  disposed  the  pillows  gently  about 
his  master,  and  withdrew. 

"  As  regards  the  war,"  said  Major 
Musgrave,  after  some  conversation  on 
other  topics,  "  I  will  say  to  you,  I  regret 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


having  ever  engaged  in  it,  and  had  it 
pleased  God  to  have  spared  my  life,  it 
was  my  determination  to  have  retired 
from  the  service." 

I  was  surprised  to  hear  this  avowal, 
for  a  more  loyal  subject  of  King  George, 
and  dearer  lover  of  England,  cannot  be 
found.  Major  Musgrave  proceeded  to 
say  that  it  was  a  most  wicked  and  un 
natural  war.  "  The  very  idea,"  said  he, 
"  of  shooting  down  men  who  speak  the 
same  language  and  own  a  common  ori 
gin,  is  monstrous.  My  share  in  it  hath 
pierced  me  with  sorrow. 

"  I  shall  never  be  able,"  he  continued, 
"  to  show  the  sincerity  of  my  repentance ; 
but,  my  dear  madam,  I  speak  the  truth 
before  the  Searcher  of  hearts.  You  will 
believe  this,  my  solemn  asseveration. 
Time  is  drawing  to  a  close.  It  hath 
pleased  God  to  try  me  and  sift  me  sorely 

5  97 


778  American  Revolution. 

in  this  life.  I  have  grievously  rebelled 
against  his  will ;  have  murmured,  have 
mourned,  have  wept,  have  agonized. 
My  spirit  hath  beat  so  long  and  unre 
mittingly  against  the  bars  of  the  prison- 
house,  that  at  last  it  sinks  weak  and 
powerless.  And  it  is  in  this  passive, 
childlike  state,  that  the  first  germs  of 
daybreak,  the  first  faint  whispers  of 
hope  and  peace,  have  visited  me.  And 
yet  the  strength  is  wanting  now,  to 
sing  the  song  of  praise  and  thanks 
giving." 

I  was  awed  to  witness  the  devotional 
state  of  mind  to  which  divine  grace  had 
brought  Major  Musgrave. 

He  continued. 

"  And  now,  my  dearest  lady,  how  can 
I  express  my  overflowing  gratitude  to 
you  2  I  who  have  been  so  burdensome, 
who  have  trespassed  so  long  and  so 


American  Revolution.  1778 

much  on  the  truest,  the  most  patient 
kindness  *? " 

My  heart  leaped  at  this  noble  acknow 
ledgement  of  the  little  we  had  done. 
I  assured  him  that  we  should  be  rejoiced, 
and  amply  repaid,  to  feel  assured  that 
we  had  alleviated  one  pang,  or  beguiled 
one  hour  of  his  suffering  mind  and  body. 
And  when  I  remember,  dear  Edward, 
the  day  the  poor  wounded  man  was 
brought  here,  how  troubled  and  willing 
to  be  rid  of  the  charge  I  was,  conscience 
smote  me,  and  I  felt  that  I  deserved  no 
thanks.  The  edifying  contemplation  of 
such  patient  sorrow  and  unselfishness  is 
worth  purchasing,  at  ten  times  the  in 
convenience. 

Major  Musgrave  continued. 

"  I  have  one  request  to  make,  which 
I  trust  your  honored  father  will  not  be 
displeased  with.  It  is,  that  my  body 


177^  American  Revolution. 


may  be  laid  in  the  Friends'  burial-place. 
The  desire  I  have  expressed  will  prove 
the  influence  which  their  principles  have 
obtained  upon  my  mind;  my  admira 
tion  of  opinions  so  new  to  me  is  great. 
The  neighboring  family,  the  Pattison 
family,  do  so  beautifully  enforce  and  ex 
emplify  them,  the  head  of  it  especially. 
I  have,  and  shall  ever  venerate  the 
Church  of  England,  the  church  of  my 
forefathers,  of  my  mother.  But  the 
peaceful  tenets  of  this  simple  people 
come  home  so  to  my  state,  shedding  such 
balm  and  repose  over  a  wounded  spirit, 
that  I  trust  the  desire  to  find  a  last  rest 
ing-place  with  them  will  be  regarded." 

He  requested  that  the  service  for  the 
burial  of  the  dead  should  be  read  at  his 
grave. 

I  assured  Major  Musgrave  of  my 
sympathy  and  appreciation  of  his  feel- 


American  Revolution. 


i778 


ings.  Nor  do  I  think  this  change  to  be 
wondered  at  in  one  fresh  from  witness 
ing  and  experiencing,  in  his  own  per 
son,  the  sickening  horrors  and  dreadful 
evils  of  War.  My  own  wretched  sus 
pense  and  anxiety  doubtless  has  its  influ 
ence.  I  am  trying  to  write  down  thought; 
to  beguile  myself  a  little  while  of  mise 
rable  fears. 

The  Major  placed  in  my  hands  a 
manuscript.  He  said  he  had  written  it 
for  my  perusal,  wishing  to  acquaint  me 
with  his  past  experience ;  but  feeling 
too  acutely  still  to  do  so  verbally.  He 
requested  me  to  present  his  watch  to 
my  father,  gave  a  valuable  ring  contain 
ing  a  brilliant  to  me,  and  a  memento  to 
each  of  the  children.  His  consideration 
and  composure  were  so  sweet  and  touch 
ing,  that  they  affected  me,  and  I  could 
not  refrain  from  tears. 


101 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


Monday 
Morning. 


Tuesday. 


I  hastily  quitted  the  room,  fearing  to 
excite  my  dear  friend,  and  knowing  that 
he  required  rest. 

(~)H,  dear  husband,  it  is  a  mournful 
thing  to  contemplate  !  A  man  full 
of  gentle  courtesy,  of  sensitive  and 
shrinking  delicacy,  receiving  at  the  hands 
of  strangers,  in  the  attitude  of  their 
enemy,  all  of  sympathy  or  earthly  sup 
port  that  he  can  receive  in  his  dying 
moments  !  It  grieves  me  inexpressibly. 
In  such  circumstances  all  animosity  of  a 
public  nature  is  completely  swallowed 
up.  It  must  be  a  heart  of  stone  that  is 
not  moved,  melted  to  pity ! 

„**• 

JTEAVEN    be    praised!      We    have 
just  heard   of  your  safety,  and  of 
the  surrender,  though  it  happened  so  long 
since. 

102 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


General  Arnold  has  gained  a  bright 
laurel  in  the  affair ;  he  proved  himself  a 
skilful  and  brave  officer.  The  surren 
der  excites  great  astonishment  among 
the  British  hereabouts.  "Discretion 
the  better  part  of  valor,"  thought  Bur- 
goyne,  his  troops  worn  out,  and  his  situa 
tion  becoming  more  and  more  critical. 

Our  letters,  stained  and  yellow,  looked 
indeed  as  though  they  had  come  from 
the  wars.  I  suppose  we  receive  only 
about  one  in  six. 

The  American  cause  seems  to  assume 
a  brighter  aspect  since  this  event.  It 
will  doubtless  inspire  confidence  in  its 
ultimate  success.  The  cause  of  free 
dom — Heaven  grant  it ! 

'IPHERE    is    an    old    proverb    which 

saith,  "  It  is  an  ill  wind  which  blows 

nobody  good."     The   Hessians  and  sol- 


Monday 


UK; 


American  Revolution. 


diers  billeted  about  here  for  six  months 
past,  left  to-day  for  the  mainland  cam 
paign,  and  the  robbery,  from  which  we 
have  for  some  time  been  exempt,  will 
now  go  on  again.  The  villains  feared 
the  soldiery;  dreadful  tax  as  it  is  to 
keep  them,  it  is  nothing  in  comparison 
to  the  other  evil. 


Thursday.  npHE  robbers  have  been  over  already; 
they  landed  last  night  at  the  har 
bor.  In  the  dead  of  night  they  sur 
rounded  the  house  of  John  Pearsall. 
He  is  called  rich,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
they  counted  on  large  booty.  Their 
first  care  is  generally  to  prevent  escapes, 
lest  the  alarm  should  be  given  to  the 
neighbors.  Whenever  they  have  rea 
son  to  think  that  any  one  has  escaped 
to  inform,  they  invariably  scamper,  fear 
ing  surprise.  On  finding  his  house  so 


American  Revolution. 


hemmed  in,  Mr.  Pearsall,  who  was  the 
only  man  in  the  house,  made  a  great 
noise  and  blustering,  calling  Tom,  John, 
and  Harry  to  load  and  fire,  then  ran  to 
the  top  of  the  house  with  the  gun,  and 
fired  three  times  in  quick  succession. 
The  robbers  took  the  alarm,  jumped 
into  the  boat,  and  shoved  off.  They 
were  fired  upon,  but  I  do  not  know 
whether  injured,  but  trust  not,  for  they 
surely  are  not  fit  to  die. 

Major  Musgrave  still  lingers.  I  found 
him  very  weak  to-day,  but  in  no  pain, 
for  which  I  desire  to  be  thankful.  He 
appeareth  very  sad  at  times;  was  so  to 
day.  I  tried  to  soothe  and  comfort  him, 
assuring  him  again  that  I  would  attend 
to  all  his  wishes;  write  a  particular  ac 
count  to  his  mother,  whom  he  fondly 
loves,  of  his  last  words,  of  his  constant 

consideration     and     thoughtfulness    of 
5*      fo 


Saturday 
Evening. 


American  Revolution. 


others,  his  patience,  and  of  his  hope  of 
pardon  and  peace,  vouchsafed  to  him  in 
the  holy  calm  and  perfect  reliance  which 
he  is  often  favored  to  experience. 

I  besought  him  to  cast,  all  his  care 
upon  Him  who  careth  for  us.  We  re 
mained  for  a  few  moments  in  sweet  and 
solemn  silence,  and  when  I  rose  to  leave 
the  room,  and  remarked  that  I  thought 
he  was  in  a  peaceful  frame  of  mind,  the 
poor  man,  or  rather  the  rich  man,  bowed 
his  head  in  assent,  and  said,  "  Bless  the 
Lord,  O  my  soul.  All  that  is  within 
me,  bless  his  holy  name." 

A  TALE  of  horror  has  just  come  to 
our  ears;  we  have  not  heard  the 
details,  nor  do  I  wish  to,  they  are  so 
horrible.  It  seems  the  Runners  entered 
the  house  of  John  Wilson,  and  threat 
ened,  until  the  wife,  to  save  the  life  of 


106 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


her  husband,  revealed  the  hiding-place. 
But  it  was  too  late ;  he  died  the  next 
morning  from  a  sabre-cut  which  he  then 
received,  cleaving  the  skull  and  occa 
sioning  so  great  loss  of  blood.  The  vil 
lains  took  a  large  sum  of  money,  which 
was  in  silver  coin,  in  bags  under  the 
hearthstone.  Mr.  Wilson  was  much 
beloved  in  the  neighborhood ;  his  death  " 
produced  the  greatest  excitement  and 
indignation. 

I  went  over  to  Henry  Pattison's  this 
evening;  he,  with  his  wife,  had  just  re 
turned  from  the  scene  of  the  dreadful 
catastrophe;  they  never  witnessed  any 
thing  more  distressing  than  Mrs.  Wil 
son's  state — wringing  her  hands  continu 
ally  with  grief  and  horror,  and  at  times 
quite  out  of  her  mind.  A  great  com 
pany  is  out  in  search  of  the  robbers. 


107 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


Monday. 


Tuesday. 


'IP WO  out  of  three  were  taken  last 
evening,  the  other  had  gone  off 
with  the  money.  It  is  said  that  the 
serving  girl  connived  with  the  thieves, 
one  of  whom  was  her  cousin.  How 
awful  to  contemplate  !  I  suppose  Tory 
influence  will  screen  them;  they  were 
sent  to  New  York  this  morning  strongly 
'guarded.  The  times  are  so  disordered, 
that  we  have  to  keep  still,  and  bear 
everything;  complaint  seemeth  utterly 
useless. 

TUST  received  the  joyful  news  of  the 
Treaty  of  Alliance  with  France.  My 
heart  beats  tremulously  with  hope  and 
expectation,  and  yet  I  scarcely  know 
what  to  hope  for.  Can  I,  a  woman, 
wife,  and  mother,  delight  in  warfare,  or 
desire  the  destruction  of  the  children  of 
a  common  origin  ?  No !  May  God 

-  108 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


of  his  merciful  goodness  grant  a  speedy 
termination  of  the  war !  This  be  my 
prevailing,  my  fervent  prayer. 

It  is  thought  the  news  of  General 
Burgoyne's  surrender  decided  the  nego 
tiations,  by  giving  strong  encourage 
ment. 

My  father  is  very  quiet  about  the 
news;  he  longs  for  peace,  but  cannot 
turn  against  his  dear  native  England. 
He  loves  her  with  all  her  provocation, 
or  in  spite  of  it. 

Nor  have  I  spoken  of  the  treaty  to 
Major  Musgrave,  but  would  rather  spare 
his  feelings ;  he  is  too  low  to  be  dis 
turbed  with  human  affairs. 

A    BAND  of  ruffians  entered  the  house 

of  Mr.  Miller  at  East  Hampton,  at 

midnight,    when    the    men    folk    were 

absent.       Mrs.    Miller    caught    up    her 


\  Thursday. 


109 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


Monday. 


youngest  child,  an  infant,  and  ran  out 
at  the  back  door ;  the  next,  a  little  boy 
of  four  years,  crept  under  a  table  to  get 
out  of  sight.  But  one  of  the  creatures 

spied  him,  and  saying,  "  Here's  a  d d 

little  rebel,"  stuck  his  poignard  into  his 
thigh,  making  a  severe  wound.  Think 
of  the  savage  hardness  of  the  heart  of 
the  man,  who  would  inflict  injury  upon 
an  innocent  helpless  child ! 

A  SCENE  took  place  at  neighbor 
Pattison's  the  day  before  the  red 
coats  left,  which  I  will  note  down  for 
your  amusement ;  for  when  the  battles 
are  fought,  the  victory  won,  and  we  sit 
down  beneath  our  own  vine  and  fig-tree, 
to  con  together  these  pages,  we  will 
weep  and  smile  over  them,  and  bless 
Heaven  that  the  trials  and  dangers  are 
past. 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


Well,  Edith  hath  been  sadly  perse 
cuted  of  late  by  one  of  the  officers,  Cap 
tain  Morton.  And  I  am  of  opinion  that 
she  would  rather  favor  his  suit,  if  he 
were  anything  but  a  soldier;  but  love 
will  not  run  away  with  her  judgment. 
He  is  a  high-spirited,  noble-looking 
young  man,  and  desperately  in  love 
with  Edith,  which  surely  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at.  Being  constantly  in  her 
train  in  their  time  of  leisure,  several 
gentlemen  have  become  enamored  of 
her. 

On  this  occasion  she  was  in  the  sitting- 
room,  spinning.  I  heard  that  Captain 
Morton  had  said  that  he  would  waste 
all  day  to  see  Edith  spin.  Indeed  she 
does  look  serenely  beautiful,  and  stately, 
as,  with  measured  though  light  step,  she 
throws  the  great  wheel,  while  her  deli 
cate  fingers  hold  the  slender  thread. 


77$  American  Revolution. 

The  wheel  as  it  goes  round  makes  a 
monotonous,  sad  sound  which  I  love  to 
hear.  So,  often  when  Bridget  spins,  I 
open  'the  door  of  the  upper  room,  that 
the  sound  thereof  may  reach  me  be 
low,  where  I  sit  sewing,  or  teaching 
the  children.  It  reminds  me  of  the 
fall  winds  among  the  withered  leaves, 
or  the  distant  sound  of  rushing  wa 
ters. 

Well,  I  doubt  not  Edith  was  enjoy 
ing  her  own  pure  and  peaceful  thoughts, 
when  Captain  Morton  entered  the  room. 
She  was  grieved  to  see  him,  thinking 
and  consoling  herself  that  he  had  wholly 
left  these  parts,  in  that  she  heard  no  tid 
ings  of  him  for  many  days. 

He    began   abruptly   to    speak,    say- 


"Edith,  you  have   not  seen  me   for 
some    time,    in   accordance    with   your 


112 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


wish ;  I  have  been  making  trial  of  my 
power  of  self-control.  Look  at  me ; 
behold  my  success  ! " 

She  directed  her  attention  to  the  young 
man,  and  was  struck  with  the  change 
which  was  manifest  in  his  appearance. 
From  the  handsome,  fine-looking  Bri 
tisher  that  he  was,  he  had  become  pale, 
stooping,  and  hollow-eyed. 

"  Give  me  hope,  or  I  die ;  some  word 
of  comfort ;  a  look  or  tone  of  love ; 
some  promise  for  my  thoughts  to  feed 
on,  to  sustain  me  in  absence.  To-mor 
row  with  this  precious  boon  I  go;  with 
out  it,  this  is  my  resource." 

Thus  saying,  the  desperate  young 
man  took  his  pistol  from  his  side,  and 
pointed  it  at  his  breast.  Edith  was  ter 
rified,  but  preserving  that  quietness  of 
manner  which  belongs  to  the  people  of 
their  sect,  she  left  her  wheel,  and  gently, 


1778  American  Revolution. 

but  firmly,  took  the  pistol  out  of  his 
hand,  and  laid  it  aside. 

The  officer  made  no  resistance ;  but 
seemed  as  though  beneath  a  spell.  The 
spell  was  the  serene  sweetness  and  com 
posure  of  her  demeanor. 

"  The  intemperance  thou  showest," 
said  Edith,  "  would  intimidate  me  from 
forming  any  closer  intimacy  with  thee. 
Besides,  how  dost  thou  think  it  would 
seem  to  my  parents  and  to  Friends,  that 
I  should  contract  an  engagement  with 
one  who  holds  it  no  wrong  to  lift  up 
sword  against  his  fellow-man  *?  " 

"Edith,  do  not  set  down  against  me 
that  in  which  I  had  no  control.  Am  I 
to  be  blamed  for  being  bred  to  the 
profession  of  arms,  that  I  am  become 
the  instrument  of  power  to  suppress 
the  rebel  colonies  ?  The  members  of 
your  Society  are  generally  supposed 


114 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


to  be  on  the  side  of  the  Mother  Coun 
try." 

"It  is  true,"  said  Edith,  "they  are 
called  Tories,  but  unjustly,  as  they  espouse 
neither  cause.  From  their  great  princi 
ple,  '  Resist  not  evil,'  and  submission  to 
the  powers  that  be,  they  are  opposed  to 
the  rising  of  the  people  against  the 
Mother  Country." 

(Her  father,  I  have  a  strong  suspi 
cion,  wishes,  though  very  cautious,  suc 
cess  to  the  cause  of  freedom.) 

Captain  Morton  said,  "  You  surely, 
Edith,  wish  to  see  the  rebellion  quelled, 
and  order  and  quiet  restored  ?  " 

"I  desire  peace  most  fervently;  but 
you,  our  brethren,  have  oppressed  us 
wrongfully,  trodden  upon  our  rights, 
and  domineered  over  us  until  patience 
hath  had  her  perfect  work,  and  seemeth 
to  be  no  longer  a  virtue.  And  I  will 


115 


778 


American  Revolution. 


venture  to  predict  that  the  side  which 
so  wise,  so  temperate,  so  just  a  man  as 
George  Washington  leads,  will  be  the 
successful  one.  Heaven  will  smile 
upon  it." 

The  Captain  was  certainly  surprised 
at  this  earnest  ebullition  of  feeling,  and 
disappointed  too.  But  his  love  over 
bears  all,  and  makes  him  take  rebuke 
from  Edith  most  patiently. 

He  said  he  would  reflect  upon  her 
remarks;  his  hopes  seemed  to  have 
risen,  why,  she  knew  not;  he  took  her 
hand  in  his,  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 
She  promised  to  remember  him  with 
kindness,  and  they  parted. 

She  will  doubtless  hear  from  him 
again,  which  I  think  she  will  not  regret.* 


*   This  your.g  officer's  love  for  Edith  led   him  to 
remain    in    this    country    after   independence    was 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


'""PHE  British  Ministry  begin  to  speak 
of  American  affairs  with  more  mod 
eration.  It  is  probably  the  effect  of  the 
fate  of  their  Northern  Army,  and  the 
Alliance  with  France.  Lord  North  laid 
before  Parliament  bills  for  conciliation, 
and  commissioners  are  appointed  to 
bring  terms  of  accommodation.  The 
day  is  passed  for  that.  Two  years  ago 
perhaps  reconciliation  might  have  been 
effected;  but  we  have  proceeded  too 
far,  we  are  too  sanguine  of  success,  to 
admit  now  of  listening  to  any  terms, 
but  acknowledgment  of  our  indepen 
dence. 


May 


achieved,  and,  in  the  course  of  time,  and  through 
her  influence,  he  became  a  consistent  member  of  the 
Society  of  Friends,  and  her  beloved,  and  loving  hus 
band. 


117 


.778 


American  Revolution. 


Monday, 
June.  \6th. 


MUSGRAVE  is  no  more. 
His  conflict  is  over,  and  he  sleep- 
eth  in  peace. 

My  father  had  been  much  with  him 
during  the  day.  He  was  distressed  at 
times  with  difficulty  in  breathing.  In 
an  interval  of  quiet  he  read  to  him  (my 
father)  the  beautiful  Visitation  of  the 
Sick.  Those  comfortable  words  seemed 
like  the  dew  to  the  parched  herbage ; 
his  soul  drank  them  in  and  was  refreshed. 
In  an  hour  after  he  fell  asleep,  and  we 
thought  the  summons  might  be  delayed 
some  time  longer;  but  at  midnight  I 
was  called  by  Shultz.  I  went  quickly ; 
but  when  I  leaned  over  the  bedside  to 
catch  the  faintest  whisper,  the  dying 
man  tried  to  speak  but  could  not.  He 
pressed  my  hand,  and  raised  his  eyes  to 
heaven;  this  action,  and  the  ineffably 
grateful  expression  of  his  countenance 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


said,   as  plainly  as  words  could,  "  God 
Mess  you  !  " 

Major  Musgrave  had  become  so  near 
in  sympathy  and  interest  to  us  all, 
that  it  seems  like  the  loss  of  a  dear 
friend. 

It  costs  us  some  effort  to  obey  his 
injunction  as  regardeth  his  last  resting- 
place.  It  seems  to  my  father  a  strange 
request ;  but  it  shall  be  held  sacred. 

'"TPHE  body  was  to-day  laid  in  the 
green  burial-ground,  near  the  meet 
ing-house  of  the  Friends.  It  was  fol 
lowed  to  the  place  by  three  companies 
of  soldiers,  marching  to  the  solemn 
music  and  the  muffled  drum. 

The  sublime  and  impressive  words  of 
the  Burial  Service  were  read  by  my  dear 
father.  How  they  appeared  to  awe 
every  one  ! 


119 


Thursday 
Evening. 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


<c  Man  that  is  l)orn  of  a  'woman  hath  hut 
a  short  time  to  live,  and  is  full  of  misery. 
He  cometh  up  and  is  cut  down  like  a  flower  ; 
he  Jleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and  never  con- 
tinueth  in  one  stay." 

These  words  convey  a  mournful  les 
son,  but  those  which  follow  are  full  of 
hope. 

"  /  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  saying  unto 
me,  Write  from  henceforth,  Blessed  are  the 
dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  (in  faith  and  love 
to  hint) ;  Even  so,  saith  the  Spirit  •  for  they 
rest  from  their  labors" 

The  firing  over  the  dead,  awakening 
thoughts  of  strife  and  battle,  was  in 
painful  contrast  to  these  life-giving 
words.  The  echoes  of  that  peaceful 
spot  had  never  before  been  thus  awak 
ened.  Though  many  soldiers  of  the 
cross  lie  there,  this  is  the  first,  and  likely 
to  be  the  only,  instance  on  record,  of  a 


120 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


soldier    of  earthly    combat    and    carnal 
weapons  taking  there  his  last  rest. 

There  is  no  stone  to  mark  the  spot; 
but  by  a  young  tree  growing  near  / 
know  it,  and  my  thoughts  will  often 
visit  it. 

A  LONG,  sad  day;  no  news  from 
my  dear  husband,  and  the  house  so 
desolate  !  The  engrossing  occupation 
gone,  my  hands  hang  idly,  while  anxiety 
and  care  reign  within.  Even  the  chil 
dren's  prattle  sounds  discordant  to  a 
mother's  ear,  which  is  attuned  only  to 
stories  of  violence  and  outrage,  which 
are  so  familiar  they  excite  no  surprise. 
Yet  fear,  and  dread,  and  horror,  never 
flee  away. 

I  will  strive,  lest  despair  take  entire 
possession  of  my  soul;  and,  "faint, 

though    pursuing,"    follow    the    rugged 
6  121 


Friday* 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


path  my  Saviour  trod,  that  leads  to 
peace  enduring,  and  a  crown  of  joy. 
"  He  is  a  strength  to  the  needy  in  his 
distress;  a  refuge  from  the  storm;  a 
shadow  from  the  heat." 


Saturday.  T  HAVE  been  employed  to-day  in 
putting  up  with  great  care  everything 
belonging  to  Major  Musgrave,  that  they 
may  be  sent,  when  occasion  offers,  to 
his  friends  in  England.  In  a  little  box 
of  spice-wood  (of  which  he  gave  me 
the  key)  I  found  the  packet  of  letters 
and  papers  left  for  my  perusal,  and  put 
them  away  for  some  future  time.  Re 
collection  is  too  fresh  now. 

The  consciousness  that  my  feeble 
efforts  were  made  to  assuage  his  grief 
(and  it  is  my  conviction  that  Major 
Musgrave's  sorrows  were  deeper  than 
met  the  eye),  to  smooth  his  passage  to 


American  Revolution. 


the  tomb,  and  to  comfort  his  last  hours 
with  sympathy  and  care,  is  full  of  in 
ward  peace  and  satisfaction. 

T    RECEIVED,   dearest   Edward,    to-      Tuesday. 

day,  your  charming  letter  of  the  15-th 
August. 

The  arrival  of  the  French  fleet,  twelve 
ships  of  the  line  and  four  frigates,  under 
command  of  Count  d'Estaigne,  is  joyful 
news. 

The  British  troops  remain  inactive  in 
New  York  since  the  battle  of  Mon- 
mouth.  The  American  loss  that  day 
was  small;  but  the  great  heat  occa 
sioned  many  deaths,  and  much  grievous 
suffering  in  both  armies. 

I  look  forward  to  the  day  with  trem 
bling  eagerness  when  all  shall  be  over, 
and  we  shall  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
peace  earned  so  dearly ;  for  though  you, 


VI?, 


1778 


American  Revolution. 


my  dear  Edward,  never  stopped  to 
count  the  cost,  when  you  enlisted  life, 
limb,  and  fortune  in  the  cause,  /  cannot 
help  thinking  sometimes,  in  my  de 
sponding  moments,  that  the  risk  of  life 
and  limb,  neglect  of  affairs,  loss  of  pro 
perty,  of  health,  of  ease,  of  comfort,  is 
the  tremendous  price  of  liberty.  You 
say "  she  is  worth  ten  times  as  many 
sacrifices,  if  could  be,  than  these  even." 
She  may  be  to  those  surviving  to  enjoy 
and  reap  her  laurels,  but  patriotism  in 
my  breast,  just  now,  is  too  faint  a 
spark  to  glory  in  perspective,  in  a 
hero's  memory,  though  embalmed  in 
tears ! 

It  seemeth  too  dear  at  such  a  price. 
Bear  with  me,  my  husband ;  you  know 
I  am  sorely  tried.  I  will  strive  for  more 
patience  and  submission,  and  commit 
thy  precious  life  to  the  care  of  Him, 


American  Revolution. 


without  whom  not  a  sparrow  falleth  to 
the  ground. 

Amid  all  the  trouble  and  gloom  sur 
rounding,  a  ludicrous  incident  will  pro 
voke  a  smile. 

T  AST  night  the  Runners  appeared 
round  a  house  near  West-Town,  and 
were  about  forcing  a  door  in  front  when 
they  were  discovered.  John  Rawlins, 
the  owner,  sent  a  negro  up  stairs  to  fire 
when  the  word  was  given.  It  was  a 
bright  moonlight  night,  and  he  saw  the 
creatures  step  up  to  the  door  from  a 
window  near  it  with  a  pane  of  glass  out. 
In  alarm,  he  looked  out  for  something 
wherewith  to  defend  himself;  seeing  the 
broom,  he  took  it  for  want  of  something 
better,  and  ran  it  through  the  broken 
window.  It  touched  the  shoulder,  and 
grazed  the  cheek  of  one  of  the  villains, 


'.dnesdw 


125 


1778 


Thursday?' 

I 


Friday. 


American  Re-volution. 


who,  supposing  it  to  be  a  loaded  gun, 
cried  out  piteously,  "  Oh,  heavens,  don't 
kill  me!"  as  though  he  had  never  an 
evil  intention  towards  any  one. 

The  signal  was  now  given,  and  the 
man  above  fired;  they  soon  scattered, 
leaving  Jown  Rawlins  aiming  his  broom 
stick  through  the  broken  window-pane  ! 

A/TY  precious  father  is  obliged  to  go 
to  New  York ;  it  is  to  him  a 
great  undertaking.  He  dreads  impedi 
ments  of  every  kind,  having  arrived  at 
the  age  so  feelingly  described  in  holy 
writ,  "  When  the  grasshopper  shall  be  a 
burden,  and  desire  shall  fail,  and  fears 
shall  be  in  the  way." 

;  I HHEY  left  this  morning   (papa  and 

Charles)  in  the  chariot.     Received 

a    condoling    and    scolding   letter  from 

Aunt  Barbara.     She  dwells  feelingly  on 


American  Revolution. 


i778 


JJOUSE-BREAKING,  horse-stealing, 
and  depredation  are  so  common, 
that  I  am  weary  of  noting  them  down, 
and  have  pretty  much  ceased  to  do  so. 
But  as  an  incident  occurred  last  night 
which  illustrates  and  proves  the  power 


you,  in  that  you  have  joined  the  rebels, 
whose  cause,  she  appears  to  think,  is 
that  of  anarchy,  confusion,  and  insubor 
dination.  "  She  dreads  to  look  at  the 
end  to  which  it  will  bring  us;  confisca 
tion,  contumely,  and  perhaps  the  forfei 
ture  of  life." 

Dear,  simple  soul  !  The  possibility 
of  the  struggle  being  successful,  and  the 
yoke  shaken  off,  never  seems  to  have 
entered  her  imagination.  I  suppose  she 
pities  our  delusion,  while  we  commise 
rate  hers !  Heaven  only  knows  which 
the  most  justly. 


Saturday. 


American  Revolution. 


of  the  Law  of  Love,  it  must  not  pass 
unrecorded. 

The  Runners  came  over  from  the 
main  shore  to  attack  the  house  of  Ste 
phen  Willetts,  a  Quaker;  he  stands 
high  in  the  Society,  is  a  preacher,  and 
devout  man.  The  family  had  retired  ; 
lie  first  took  the  alarm,  and  knew  in  a 
moment  that  his  time  of  trial  had  come. 
He  made  (he  says)  a  mental  ejaculation 
of  prayer  to  God  for  grace,  to  do  and 
say  the  thing  that  was  right. 

Thus  led,  who  can  doubt  that  his 
petition  was  granted  ?  The  demon  of 
Fear  was  cast  out  by  the  angel  of  Love. 
He  threw  open  wide  the  door  and  said, 
"  Walk  in  friends,  and  warm  yourselves, 
it  is  chilly  this  evening."  He  threw 
wood  on  the  fire,  and  kept  talking  so 
kindly,  that  the  men,  though  ever  so 
evilly  disposed,  had  not  time  to  say  a 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


word.  He  then  went  and  called  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  for  his  servant;  "Cae 
sar,  come  down ;  get  ready  some  supper 
for  these  friends.  They  must  be  very 
cold,  and  need  refreshment."  Minced 
pies,  meat  and  bread,  were  put  upon  the 
table,  and  cider  ordered  to  be  drawn. 

The  robbers  looked  at  each  other  in 
silent  amazement;  but  the  old  man's 
kindness  was  so  pressing,  and  seemed 
so  hearty,  it  was  out  of  their  power  to 
refuse ;  so  they  sat  down  and  partook 
of  his  good  cheer.  After  they  had  eaten, 
Mr.  Willetts  told  them  when  they  wished 
their  beds  were  ready.  They  were  now 
completely  overcome  ;  their  hard  hearts 
melted,  making  them  as  unable  to  begin 
the  work  of  plunder  as  though  bound 
in  chains  of  iron  !  One  of  them  spoke, 
and  said  that  they  had  some  distance  to 
go  on  the  morrow,  and  as  they  were  up, 


i778 


Tuesday. 


American  Revolution. 


they  might  as  well  walk  a  few  miles 
farther.  They  then  thanked  the  Friend 
for  his  kindness,  and  bade  him  good 
night.  As  they  walked  out  they  could 
but  ill  conceal  the  knives  and  pistols 
they  bore  about  them. 


and  Charles  safely  returned; 
the  latter  much  excited  by  all  he 
saw,  and  the  former  cheerful  and  well, 
having  met  with  no  difficulties.  I  trust 
that  he  may  be  spared  to  see  many  good 
days,  or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed, 
or  the  golden  bowl  broken. 

Charles  gave  me  a  vivid  description 
of  the  plains  around  Jamaica,  which 
were  filled  with  white  tents,  and  pre 
sented  a  pretty  and  lively  aspect.  In 
the  village  of  Bruyklin,  he  says  there 
are  built  many  small  one-story  houses 
for  the  soldiers. 


130 


American  Revolution. 


1778 


He  saw  a  sight  too  in  New  York, 
which,  with  your  republican  notions, 
dearest  Edward,  would  excite  little  emo 
tion;  but  the  very  mention  of  which 
made  the  blood  tingle  in  my  veins. 
They  saw  a  Prince  of  the  blood  royal ! 
Prince  William  Henry.* 

He  is  about  seventeen  years  old,  very 
stout  (my  father  thinks)  for  that  age. 
The  royal  family  are  said  to  be  inclined 
that  way.  King  George  is  portly.  The 
young  Prince  wears  the  British  army 
uniform ;  he  has  a  pleasant  countenance, 
but  very  crooked,  knock-kneed  legs,  of 
which  you  must  know  papa  is  a  keen 
observer,  a  handsome  limb  being  in  his 
eyes  of  no  small  importance  in  view  of 
personal  appearance. 

They  saw  the   Prince  passing  down 

*  Afterwards  King  William  IV.  of  England. 


1779  American  Revolution. 

Queen  Street.  My  father  took  off  his 
hat  as  he  walked  near,  and  bade  Charles 
do  the  same.  This  may  be  a  great 
weakness;  but  the  seed  sown  in  youth 
by  the  honored  dead,  and  nourished  and 
grown  with  the  growth,  cannot  be  rooted 
out  in  a  day. 

The  French  fleet  has  sailed  for  the 
West  Indies  without  having  accom 
plished  anything  of  importance,  being 
unsuccessful  in  all  its  enterprises.  A 
great  disappointment.  Well,  if  no  other 
good  effect  follows,  its  presence  inspired 
confidence  in  the  Continental  army, 
and  importance  in  the  eyes  of  the 
enemy. 


is  great  distress  from  the 
depreciation  of  our  bills  of  credit  ; 
it  dispirits  and  enfeebles  exertion.  Gene 
ral  Washington  sorely  perplexed  amid 


American  Revolution. 


his    murmuring    men.       Heaven 
speedy  relief!      *       *       *      *      *      * 
(The  Journal  is  defective  here,  and 
several  letters  are  wanting.) 

"D  ATTLE  of  Camden.  i6th  August. 
Hard  fought.  The  Continentals 
defeated.  Baron  de  Kalb,  a  Prussian 
gentleman,  slain.  The  second  officer  in 
command. 

The  greater  part  of  our  forces,  mili 
tia,  who  fled  at  the  first  fire,  and  could 
not  be  rallied,  which  I  cannot  find  in 
my  woman's  heart  to  condemn,  dear  as 
freedom  is  to  its  every  pulse.  I  can  so 
vividly  fancy  myself  standing  up  for  the 
first  time  before  the  enemy's  murderous 
batteries,  and  the  courage  oozing  out  at 
my  finger  ends. 


1780 


Sept.'iotft. 


133 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


Tuesday. 


October 


Thursday. 


to-day  of  the  arrival  of  an 
other    French   fleet.      Seven  ships 
of  the   line;    6,000  land   troops,   com 
manded  by  Count  de  Rochambeau,  at 
Rhode  Island. 

Will  give  new. life  to  Congress  and 
the  army. 

A  LETTER  from  my  husband;  still 
inactive,  the  South  having  now  be 
come  the  principal  seat  of  action,  which 
I  do  not  regret.  The  French  fleet  re 
turned  to  France  !  Thus  has  perished 
our  hope  of  naval  assistance.  It  seems 
unaccountable.  The  land  forces  re 
main. 

A     DEEPLY    interesting    document 
from  Edward,  in  which  is  recorded 
a  most  detestable  and  flagrant  instance 
of  treachery. 


184 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


The  Lord  be  praised,  we  have  been 
delivered  from  the  consequences ! 

A  plot  of  GeneraLJBejiedict  Arnold 
for  giving  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy 
the  fortress  of  West  Point !  Who  can 
imagine  what  might  have  been  the  re 
sult  had  not  the  despicable  design  been 
providentially  frustrated  ? 

Arnold  has  acted  with  bravery  in 
several  actions.  It  is  said  the  cause  of 
his  dreadful  defection  is  that  the  laurels 
which  he  won  at  Saratoga  were  awarded 
to  General  Gates  by  Congress,  and  but 
little  notice  taken  of  his  valor  on  that 
occasion.  Is  this  any  excuse  for  such 
Satanic  revenge  ?  A  bad  man,  and 
never  a  true  lover  of  his  country. 

A  patriot  would  drain  his  heart's  blood 
for  her,  even  though  she  should  prove 
ungrateful. 


1:55 


]?8o 


American  Revolution. 


Saturday)] 


QENERAL  GREENE  appointed  to 
the  command  of  the  Southern  divi- 


Monday. 


sion. 


'"PHIS  neighborhood  is  still  infested 
with  the  odious  Hessians.  They 
are  so  filthy  and  lazy,  lounging  about 
-all  day  long,  smoking  and  sleeping. 
The  patience  of  the  good  Friends  is 
inexhaustible.  After  filling  up  their 
parlors,  kitchens,  and  bed-rooms,  the 
whole  winter  with  chests,  liquor-casks, 
hammocks,  bird-cages,  guns,  boots,  and 
powder-flasks,  they  were  last  week  or 
dered  to  Jamaica.  Oh  the  rejoicing ! 
It  would  flash  out  of  the  eye,  though 
their  discreet  tongues  spake  it  not. 

The  moment  the  Hessians  took  their 
leave  Friend  Pattison  caused  the  broken 
places  in  the  wall  to  be  repaired,  for  the 
Colonel's  lady  had  the  room  ornamented 


136 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


all  around  with  stuffed  parrots,  perched 
on  sticks  driven  in  the  wall.  The  quar 
terly  meeting  of  the  Society  is  near  at 
hand.  They  expect  friends  and  rela 
tions  to  stop  with  them,  and  make  pre 
parations  for  their  reception. 

Well,  all  were  putting  their  houses  in 
order,  when  the  appalling  news  spread  like 
wildfire — "  Tfe  Hessians  are  coming  lack!" 

Running  to  the  window,  I  descried 
them  in  the  distance  like  a  cloud  of 
locusts,  dusky  and  dim ;  but  the  fife 
and  drum,  assailing  our  ears,  if  we 
needed  additional  evidence,  convinced 
us  that  it  was  too  true.  They  had  in 
deed  been  ordered  back.  How  many 
tears  of  vexation  I  shed  ! 


]yj AJQR  ANDREJ     How  my  heart 

bleeds  for  him !     'Tis  true  he  was 

a  spy,  and  he  dies  the  death  of  a  spy; 


Monday, 


137 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


but  his  many  noble  traits  and  accom 
plishments,  ardent  temperament,  intrepi 
dity  and  gentleness,  win  admiration,  and 
excite  compassion  and  regret.  I  cannot 
think  of  his  bitter  fate.  General  Wash 
ington,  it  is  thought,  would  have  granted 
his  last  affecting  request  (to  die  by  the 
musket),  but  others  sternly  just,  refused 
the  boon,  and  he  died  ignominiously. 

My  father  knew  his  family,  and  re 
members  him.  A  noble,  handsome-look 
ing  man ;  tall,  and  of  a  remarkably  well- 
proportioned  person. 

He  is  spoken  of  by  the  officers  as  the 
soul  of  honor.  It  seems  strange  that  a 
person  of  his  character  could  engage  in 
such  an  undertaking.  The  noble  senti 
ment  of  Amor  Patrice  becomes  soiled 
when  made  the  plea  for  clandestine  ac 
tions,  which  will  not  bear  the  scrutiny 
of  justice,  the  light  of  day. 


138 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


And  yet  I  grieve  at  his  sad  end.  Is  it 
on  account  of  his  fascinating  qualities,  the 
blandishment  which  rank,  beauty,  and 
chivalrous  bearing  cast  around  him? 
Or  is  it  simply  as  a  man  that  I  pity  and 
deplore  him *? 

I  trust  he  would  have  my  sympathy, 
were  he  the  humblest  private  in  the 
British  army. 

Major  Andre  had  an  unfortunate  at 
tachment,  and  died  with  the  miniature 
of  the  young  lady  close  to  his  heart. 
An  ignominious  death — how  shocking 
to  his  feelings ! 

T  HAVE  not  courage  yet  to  open  Ma 
jor  Musgrave's  manuscript,  having  a 
presentiment  that  it  will  be  of  a  very  sad 
nature. 

T  INTO  how  many  evanescent  things 
is  human  life  likened  in  Holy  Writ ! 


<ues  day. 


Thursday. 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


Tuesday. 


Wednesday. 


"  What  is  your  life  *?  It  is  even  a 
vapor  that  appeareth  for  a  little  time 
and  then  vanisheth  away." 

"  As  the  night-watch  that  is  past.  As 
a  dream  of  the  night." 

"  As  for  man,  his  days  are  as  grass  : 
as  a  flower  of  the  field  so  he  flourisheth. 
For  the  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it  is 
gone ;  and  the  place  thereof  shall  know 
it  no  more." 

'""PHE  neighborhood  has  been  more 
quiet  for  a  week  past,  and  the  Hes 
sians  have  really  left,  bag  and  baggage, 
for  which  Heaven  be  praised !  They 
are  like  the  locusts  of  Egypt,  desolating 
the  land,  and  eating  up  every  green 
thing. 

"  T4"E  will  give  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourn 
ing,    and  the  garment  of  praise 


140 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


for  the  spirit  of  heaviness."  These  com 
forting  words  have  been  in  my  thoughts 
this  day,  making  me  peaceful.  I  have 
listened  to  the  still  small  voice  within 
me.  Oh  that  I  could  be  enabled  to  do 
this  oftener !  How  much  care  and  tur 
moil  of  spirit  would  it  lighten  ! 


news  of  importance.  A  depu 
tation  of  Friends  was  sent  last 
month  to  a  place  called  Nine  Partners, 
about  twenty  miles  east  of  the  Hudson 
River.  Henry  Pattison  was  one  of  the 
number;  he  gives  a  very  interesting 
account  of  their  progress.  They  crossed 
the  water  to  Mamaroneck,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  White  Plains.  They  had 
some  questioning  to  undergo  from  the 
enemy,  as  they  were  obliged  to  pass  the 
Continental  lines;  and  coming  from 
Long  Island,  where  the  British  power  is 


Thursday. 


Ml 


1 780  American  Revolution. 


supreme,  they  had  fears  of  being  stopped; 
still,  believing  themselves  to  be  in  the 
way  of  their  religious  duty,  they  per 
severed.  They  passed  near  General 
Washington's  head-quarters.  On  ap 
proaching,  they  were  stopped,  examined 
severely,  and  handed  over  to  the  Com 
mittee  of  Safety,  which  declared  they 
could  not  allow  them  to  proceed  con 
sistently  with  the  orders  they  had  re 
ceived. 

They  then  desired  that  General  Wash 
ington  might  be  informed  of  their  deten 
tion,  and  requested  that  he  would  give 
them  an  interview.  It  was  granted ; 
they  were  received  with  marked  defer 
ence  and  respect.  It  is  the  custom  of 
this  peculiar  sect  to  speak  with  modera 
tion,  never  in  strong  terms,  either  in 
condemnation  or  praise,  complimentary 
language  being  specially  disapproved 


American  Revolution.  1780 


of.  But  I  can  gather  from  their  quaint 
though  guarded  phrase,  that  they  were 
much  struck  with  the  elegance  and  dig 
nity  of  General  Washington's  person 
and  address. 

Friend  Pattison  admitted  that  he  was 
a  likely  man,  and  conducted  with  great 
propriety.  As  much  praise  as  they 
could  be  expected  to  bestow  upon  "  a 
fighting  character." 

After  politely  requesting  them  to  be 
seated,  the  General  made  close  inquiry 
relating  to  the  British  force  on  the 
island. 

His  manner  being  calculated  to  in 
spire  confidence,  they  very  candidly  told 
all  they  knew,  and  acquainted  him  with 
some  facts  before  unknown  to  him. 

General  Washington  inquired  where 
they  passed  the  night,  and  said  he  was 
entirely  convinced,  from  his  knowledge 


1780  American  Revolution. 

of  their  Society,  and  of  the  person  with 
whom  they  tarried,  that  their  object  was, 
as  they  represented,  entirely  religious. 
He  apologized  for  their  detention,  say 
ing,  it  seemed  unavoidable,  and  if  they 
returned  the  same  way,  he  should  be 
happy  to  hear  of  their  success  in  seeing 
their  friends. 

When  the  humble  company  entered 
the  General's  presence,  an  aide  stepped 
up,  and  hinted  to  them  the  propriety  of 
removing  their  hats. 

Henry  Pattison  said,  "In  presence 
of  God  in  prayer  alone,  do  we  bow  the 
uncovered  head.  Before  kings,  or  the 
mightiest  of  earth's  potentates,  this  re 
spect  is  not  shown.  In  His  sight  there 
is  no  respect  of  persons;  in  ours,  all 
men  are  brethren." 

General  Washington  said  he  was  well 
acquainted  with  their  customs,  and  some 


144 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


of  his  best  friends  were  of  their  body. 
He  advised  them  to  go  forward,  and 
always  plainly  tell  the  truth. 

On  their  return,  passing  again  near 
the  camp,  they  availed  themselves  of 
General  Washington's  invitation.  He 
appeared  deeply  interested  in  their  rela 
tion  of  what  they  had  seen  and  heard, 
and  dismissed  them  with  kind  assurances 
of  regard,  requesting  them  to  represent 
to  the  enemy  whatever  they  chose,  as 
he  knew  they  would  tell  only  the  truth, 
in  which  he  was  willing  to  trust. 


PUBLIC  affairs  engage  but  little  atten 
tion  hereabouts ;  each  family  is  ab 
sorbed  in  its  own  toils  and  privations. 

Benedict  Arnold  has  received,  as  a 
reward  of  treachery,  the  appointment  of 
Brigadier-General  in  the  British  army, 
and,  it  is  said,  a  large  amount  of  money 

7  145 


iday 


1780  American  Revolution. 

besides.  Small  compensation  for  the 
forfeiture  of  honor,  principle,  reputation, 
all  that  man  holds  dear !  A  bold,  am 
bitious,  bad  man,  pitiless  and  selfish,  he 
betrayed  his  country  from  the  unworthy 
motive  of  revenge.  True,  he  served 
her  nobly  in  the  expedition  to  Quebec, 
and  proved  himself  on  other  occasions 
a  fearless  officer,  and  Congress  awarded 
too  little  praise,  and  acted  perhaps  un 
wisely  in  promoting  younger  men  before 
him  ;  but  personal  aggrandizement,  and 
not  patriotism,  actuated  him ;  while  the 
love  of  freedom,  devotion  to  right  and 
justice,  is  the  principle  of  action  of 
Washington,  Greene,  and  Montgomery, 
whose  memory  many  a  tear  will  em 
balm,  and  whose  heroic  bravery,  beauty, 
graceful  attractiveness,  and  melancholy 
fate,  will  form  the  theme  of  praise  and 
regret  to  beings  yet  unborn. 


American  Resolution. 


1780 


TN  reading  my  Bible  to-day  I  came 
to  that  beautiful  passage :  "  And 
nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword  against 
nation,  nor  learn  war  any  more.  The 
sword  shall  be  turned  into  the  plough 
share,  and  the  spear  into  the  pruning- 
hook."  It  appears  to  indicate  that  the 
peaceful  pursuits  of  agriculture  will  pre 
vail  over  the  earth,  and  war  and  devas 
tation  cease.  May  God  hasten  the  day! 
Yet  the  resistance  of  the  Colonies 
against  oppression  is  righteous  and  just. 
This  land  is  destined  to  be  the  Home 
of  the  Free.  It  seems  as  though  God, 
having  prepared  and  decreed  it  for  the 
refuge  of  the  persecuted  and  the  wretched 
of  the  earth,  had  opened  the  eyes  of  the 
hardy  Spaniards,  whose  faith  was  cer 
tainty,  and  whose  adventurous  spirit 
never  flagged,  revealing  the  existence 
of  a  broad  continent  over  the  wide  wa- 


Tuesday. 


~1 


1780  American  Revolution. 


ters,  which  appeared  to  others  a  wild 
chimera.  And  then  the  indomitable 
perseverance  of  the  early  settlers,  which 
no  difficulties  could  daunt,  no  hardship 
subdue.  The  piety  and  self-denial  of 
the  Puritans;  the  enthusiastic  faith  and 
devotion  of  the  Covenanters,  the  Hu 
guenots,  in  deep  baptism  of  sorrow ;  all 
here  came,  the  chosen  of  God,  to  a  place 
prepared  for  them  in  wisdom  and  mercy 
—the  Canaan  to  the  Israelites !  Over 
these  broad  lands  and  fertile  fields  a 
race  is  to  spread,  and  become  like  the 
leaves  of  the  forest,  or  the  sands  of  the 
sea,  for  numbers.  Here  liberty,  peace, 
and  plenty  shall  prevail  beneath  the 
benignant  smile  of  the  Lord.  But  never 
may  we  or  our  children's  children,  like 
the  Israelites,  wax  wanton,  and  turn 
against  the  God  of  all  our  mercies ! 
The  declension  of  the  Covenant  peo- 


148 


American  Resolution. 


1780 


pie  is  affectingly  portrayed  in  the  eighth 
chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  and  fearful 
denunciation  is  pronounced  against  those 
in  such  a  case. 

"For  the  Lord  thy  God  bringeth 
thee  into  a  good  land,  a  land  of  brooks 
of  water,  of  fountains,  and  depths  that 
spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills;  a  land 
of  wheat,  and  barley,  and  vines,  and  fig- 
trees,  and  pomegranates ;  a  land  of  olive 
oil,  of  milk  and  honey;  a  land  wherein 
thou  shalt  eat  bread  without  scarceness. 
Thou  shalt  not  lack  anything  in  it.  A 
land  whose  stones  are  iron,  and  out  of 
whose  hills  thou  mayest  dig  brass.  And 
thou  say  in  thine  heart,  My  power,  and 
the  might  of  mine  hand,  hath  gotten 
me  this  wealth.  But  thou  shalt  remem 
ber  the  Lord  thy  God,  for  it  is  He  that 
giveth  thee  power  to  get  wealth." 


149 


i?8o 


Monday. 


r~T 


Wednesday. 


American  Revolution. 


PLUNDER,  rapine,  and  violence  still 
go  on,  and  "  the  end  doth  not  ap 
pear."  With  Job  I  feel  that  I  can 
almost  say,  "  My  soul  is  weary  of  my 
life."  This  long  separation  is  hard  to 
be  borne.  Lord  save  me  from  selfish 
repinings,  enable  me  to  renounce  my 
own  wishes  and  desires  for  the  common 
weal ;  and  in  thy  good  time  restore  my 
husband  to  us,  and  peace  and  freedom  to 
this  tempest-tossed  and  afflicted  people. 

I"  AST  night  Mr.  Burr,  a  storekeeper, 
was  asleep  in  the  store  (as  was  his 
custom,  for  the  purpose  of  guarding  it), 
when  he  was  aroused  by  a  noise  at  the 
window,  which  was  so  heavily  barred 
that  though  they  bored  the  shutter,  and 
tugged  at  it  a  great  while,  they  could 
not  open  it.  Near  the  top  of  the  shut 
ter  there  is  unfortunately  a  small  open- 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


ing  to  admit  the  light.  Through  this 
one  of  the  villains  put  his  gun  and  fired, 
killing  Mr.  Burr.  The  ball  passed 
through  his  body,  as  he  was  sitting  up 
in  bed.  The  wretches  then  fled,  and 
their  victim  lived  but  a  few  moments, 
just  long  enough  to  tell  the  particulars. 
When  will  deliverance  come  ? 


'TTHERE  is  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Hugh  Jarvis,*  a  Tory,  from  the 
province  of  New  Jersey,  who  is  ex 
tremely  persecuting  and  hard  on  the 
people,  especially  the  unresisting  Quak- 

*  This  man,  after  the  war,  manifested  the  deep 
est  and  most  heart-felt  contrition,  on  account  of  his 
brutal  conduct  towards  the  Friends.  He  became  a 
member  of  their  Society  ;  visited  them,  and  wished 
to  make  any  reparation  in  his  power  for  the  injuries 
inflicted  ;  and  even  offered  his  body  to  the  smiter, 
humbling  himself,  and  mourning  his  iniquities. 


Saturday. 


151 


1780  American  Revolution. 


ers.  It  seems  as  though  when  once  a 
man  sides  with  the  enemy,  he  goes 
to  greater  lengths  to  show  his  zeal ;  or 
by  bullying  and  threatening  the  un 
offending,  to  hide  his  own  shame. 

He  will  not  listen  to  expostulation  or 
reason,  and  seems  to  be  devoid  of  mercy. 
He  will  often  take  the  last  morsel  of 
hay  or  provender  out  of  a  barn,  when 
the  owner  pleads  for  only  a  little,  for  his 
famishing  cattle,  for  the  night. 

He  yesterday  ordered  John  Perkins 
to  go  out  with  his  boys,  and  take  their 
scythes  and  cut  the  grass  off  some  mea 
dow-land  of  their  own,  which  they 
counted  on  as  winter  feed  for  their  crea 
tures;  by  threatening  and  fearful  oaths 
he  compelled  compliance.  But  it  was 
a  hard  day's  work. 


162 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


A  DREADFUL  deed  was  committed 
last  night.  Four  persons  came  over 
from  the  mainland  and  attacked  the 
house  of  Richard  Albertson.  They  sur 
rounded  it,  and  one  of  them  knocked 
loudly  at  the  door.  Knowing  it  to  be 
useless  to  resist,  he  got  up  and  opened 
it;  they  entered,  and  with  violent  ges 
tures  told  him  to  hand  them  all  his 
money.  He  is  considered  a  wealthy 
farmer,  and  they  doubtless  knew  it.  He 
said  he  had  very  little  in  the  house,  and 
they  would  be  welcome  if  they  would 
be  satisfied.  They  thereupon  swore 
furiously,  saying  they  did  not  believe 
it,  and  commenced  searching,  rummag 
ing  drawers,  opening  closets,  and  even 
lifting  up  the  hearthstones,  which  they 
have  discovered  is  a  favorite  hiding- 
place.  They  found  nothing  of  value. 
Incensed  highly,  they  commenced  swear- 


Monday. 


153 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


\ — 


ing  and  threatening  the  women,  who 
\  were  excessively  terrified ;  they  ordered 
them  to  uncord  the  bedstead,  they  them 
selves  pulling  off  the  bed-clothes.  Afraid 
to  disobey,  their  trembling  fingers  re 
fused  the  task.  (Mr.  Albertson  had 
been  put  out  of  the  room,  so  as  to  play 
upon  the  fears  of  the  females.)  The 
ruffians  said  they  wanted  the  rope  to 
hang  him  with.  They  could  extort  no 
more  by  threatening. 

They  now  dragged  in  the  master  of 
the  house,  and  proceeded  to  put  the 
rope  around  his  neck  and  tie  his  hands 
behind  him. 

Then  the  wife  and  children  fell  upon 
their  knees,  and  begged  the  ruffians  to 
spare  their  father. 

Mr.  Albertson  calmly  told  them  that 
it  was  useless  to  kill  him ;  that  would 
not  bring  money.  The  wife  then  offered 


154 


American  Revolution.  1780 

the  wretches  all  her  silver  spoons,  and 
twenty  dollars  in  money  besides,  which 
they  rudely  clutched,  but  demanded 
more,  as  violently  as  before.  They 
now  began  to  abuse  his  only  son,  Wil 
liam,  a  boy  of  about  fourteen  years, 
thinking,  doubtless,  that  by  exciting  the 
fears  and  sympathy  of  the  father,  the 
booty  would  be  produced. 

The  poor  man,  sorely  tried,  told  the 
ruffians  that  money  was  nothing  to  him 
in  comparison ;  if  he  had  it,  he  would 
give  it  them.  What  little  he  did 
possess  was  let  out  to  his  neighbors. 
Whereupon  they  began  to  strike  at  him 
with  their  sabres,  knocking  him  down, 
and  then  standing  him  up,  and  cutting 
him  dreadfully,  he  begging  for  life ;  his 
wife,  having  fainted  away,  was  lying  on 
the  floor. 

This    went   on    until    day    began    to 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


dawn,  w-hen  they  left,  cursing  and  threat 
ening  to  burn  his  house  over  his  head. 
The  cord  was  unloosened  from  the  neck 
of  Mr.  Albertson,  and  the  deep  gashes 
dressed.  He  received  severe  injury, 
and  will  bear  the  scars  thereof  through 
life,  for  I  am  thankful  to  say  his  life  is 
not  despaired  of.  Great  indignation 
prevails,  and  a  plan  has  been  devised 
by  the  people  to  protect  themselves  from 
such  great  evil  in  future.  A  company 
of  young  men  is  to  be  associated,  to 
ride  about  on  horseback  all.  night;  twelve 
go  out  at  once,  and  are  relieved  at  a 
certain  hour  by  others.  They  are  well 
armed,  and  will  give  the  alarm  where 
they  discover  signs  of  an  intended  at 
tack.  Richard  Thompson  is  their  leader, 
a  bold,  intrepid  man. 


156 


American  Revolution. 


'TPHIS  text  dwells  on  my  mind  to-day: 
"  The  Lord  is  king,  be  the  people 
never  so  impatient.  He  sitteth  between 
the  cherubim,  be  the  earth  never  so  un 
quiet."  It  has  comforted  me  much— 
the  faith  that  God  is  over  all,  blessed  for 


ever : 


HpHERE  was  another  robbery  perpe 
trated  about  twenty  miles  from  this 
place,  under  most  singular  circumstances, 
last  week.  There  were  three  men,  and 
they  appeared  to  be  entirely  superior  to 
the  Runners,  or  Cow-boyvwho  infest  the 
country,  in  station,  though  not  in  hu 
manity.  They  all  wore  black  masks, 
and  were  armed  with  cutlasses,  as  well 
as  silver-mounted  pistols.  It  was  the 
house  of  Joseph  Willetts,  an  aged  man. 
They  very  politely  told  him  not  to  be 
at  all  alarmed,  as  they  only  wanted  his 


1780 


Tuesday. 


Vjiursday, 


1780  American  Resolution. 


money,  and  would  not  injure  him,  or 
any  of  his  family.  The  old  man  com 
plied  with  their  request,  but  could  not 
satisfy  their  rapacity.  He  offered  them 
now,  though  most  reluctantly,  his  old 
silver  timepiece  (a  heavy  old-fashioned 
watch,  which  he  had  worn  at  his  side 
fifty  years),  and  it  seemed  like  parting 
with  a  friend. 

The  creatures  now  threw  off  the  mask 
of  politeness,  though  not  those  they  co 
vered  their  faces  with,  and  uttered  the 
most  fearful  oaths,  and  threats  of  death 
and  cruelty.  It  is  generally  believed 
they  were  British  soldiers.  One  of  them, 
horrible  to  relate,  let  fall  his  cutlass  on 
the  head  of  the  aged  man,  aiming  doubt 
less  to  kill  him ;  but  as  he  stooped  to 
avoid  the  blow,  it  struck  his  cheek, 
making  a  dreadful  wound.  He  fell; 
his  daughter  ran  to  him,  and  leaning 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


over  her  venerable  parent  in  agony  of 
spirit,  cried,  "  Oh  God,  they  have  killed 
him!" 

The  villains  then  began  to  cut  up  the 
chairs,  to  destroy  the  furniture,  and  break 
the  looking-glass.  After  which  they  re 
lieved  the  wounded  man  and  his  out 
raged  family  of  their  presence. 

The  whole  country  round  is  roused, 
and  determined  to  ferret  out  the  of 
fenders. 

The  end  is  with  Him  "  who  neither 
slumbers,  nor  sleeps,"  in  whom  is  "  nei 
ther  variableness,  nor  shadow  of  turning." 

T^AITH  in  an  overruling  Providence 
was  nobly  exemplified  in  a  case 
which  occurred  in  one  of  the  Jerseys. 
A  Friend  was  pinioned  in  his  own  barn. 
He  stood  with  his  back  to  the  large  door, 
with  a  drawn  sword  close  to  his  breast, 


Saturday. 


1780  American   "Revolution. 


which  an  enraged  Britisher,  with  threat 
of  instant  death,  in  case  of  denial  or  re 
fusal  of  compliance  with  some  outra 
geous  demand,  held  in  his  hand.  Calm 
and  still,  the  aged  Friend  stood.  It 
seemed  to  exasperate  his  persecutor  be 
yond  all  bounds.  With  a  horrible  objur 
gation  he  flourished  his  sabre,  and  bring 
ing  it  down  within  a  hair's  breadth  of 
the  noble  man's  throat,  paused :  fiery 
wrath  gleamed  in  his  eye.  It  was  a 
moment  of  terror  to  the  bystanders; 
they  besought  the  Friend  to  give  in. 

The  stillness  was  profound.  The 
aged  man  looked  in  his  enemy's  eye, 
and  spoke :  "  Thou  canst  do  no  more 
than  thou  art  permitted  to  do."  The 
voice  struck  solemnly  on  the  ear. 

For  an  instant  more  the  sword  was 
uplifted ;  then  it  fell  as  though  the  arm 
had  been  palsied.  The  violent  man  was 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


cowed,  awe-struck.  He  strode  out  of 
the  barn,  mounted  his  horse,  and  rode 
away  furiously. 

HpHERE  is  a  rumor  of  a  great  battle      Thursday. 

fought  at  the  South,  and  the  Con 
tinentals  victorious.     I  cannot  vouch  for 
the  truth  of  it.     My  first  thought  and' 
prayer  is  my  husband's  safety ;  the  next 
for  our  country. 

By  skilful  military  manoeuvres,  Gene 
ral  Washington  has  kept  Sir  Henry 
Clinton  in  a  state  of  continual  alarm  and 
uncertainty  for  some  time.  It  was  gene 
rally  understood  that  New  York  was  the 
point  of  attack.  But  the  General  sud 
denly  broke  up  the  camp  at  White 
Plains,  and  crossed  the  Hudson  river. 

j^EPORT  of  the  dreadful  deed  I  re-       Friday. 
corded  (of  the  masked  men)  was 


1780  American  Revolution. 

made  to  the  captain  of  a  company  quar 
tered  at  Jericho.  By  inquiry,  three 
men  were  found  to  have  been  absent 
on  the  night  of  the  attack.  The  officer 
professed  himself  desirous  of  having 
them  severely  punished,  if  they  could 
be  identified.  Whereupon  the  wounded 
man,  Mr.  Willetts,  being  yet  too  ill, 
his  sister,  an  aged  spinster,  with  others 
of  the  household,  went  to  head-quarters. 
The  men  were  assembled,  and  she  recog 
nised  two,  by  their  voices,  and  their 
size,  and  general  appearance,  as  the  of 
fenders.  They  were  made  to  confess  and 
designate  the  third,  who  had  deserted. 

Though  he  whom  they  sorely  injured, 
humanely,  and  in  a  forgiving  spirit, 
pleaded  for  them,  and  begged  that  they 
might  not  be  severely  dealt  with,  they 
were  punished  severely,  by  what  they 
call  picketing. 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


house  of  FryJWjllis,  of  Jericho, 
was  entered  by  way  of  the  kitchen, 
where  a  young  man  and  woman  were 
sitting  over  the  fire.  The  robbers  fired 
off  a  gun  to  obtain  a  light.  They  then 
set  a  guard  over  each  bed,  and  searched 
for  money  and  valuables.  The  man 
servant,  "a  warrior,"  attempted  to  run 
for  his  sword,  but  was  held  back.  They 
ransacked  cabinets,  desks,  etc.,  and  took 
money  to  a  considerable  amount,  the 
serving-man's  excepted,  which  was  con 
cealed  under  a  drawer. 

The  venerable  and  respected  Thomas 
Willis,J;hen  a  boy  sleeping  in  his  trun 
dle-bed,  narrates  these  incidents  of  the 
war  of  the  Revolution,  elucidating,  in 
the  trials  and  afflictions  of  his  people 
(the  Friends),  and  their  patient  submis 
sion,  that  divine  charity  which  suffered! 


long  and  is  kind. 


163 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


John  Searing  had  been  observed  by 
the  enemy  carting  pork  ;  counting  upon 
his  having  received  the  money  for  it, 
the  creatures  went  to  his  house  and  de 
manded  it.  On  refusing  it,  his  life  was 
"Threatened.  He  persisted,  was  seized 
and  his  head  placed  upon  a  block,  and 
a  man  stood  over  him  with  an  axe, 
bringing  it  down  every  moment  as  if 
to  sever  his  head  from  his  body.  His 
wife  then  placed  all  the  money  they 
had,  about  forty  pounds,  at  their  feet, 
and  rushed  to  save  her  husband  by 
placing  her  arm  across  his  neck. 

The  sight  of  the  money  caused  them 
to  desist  their  threatenings. 

The  same  person,  Mr.  John  Searing, 
was  equally  fearless  when  commanded 
by  an  officer  to  go  with  his  team  to  the 
harbor  to  cart  liquor.  He  was  in  his 
own  wagon  on  the  road  and  driving. 

164 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


He  refused  the  request.  A  sword 
was  brandished  over  his  head,  with  a 
threat  of  instant  death. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  a  solemn 
uplifting  of  the  heart  to  God  on  his 
part. 

The  trustful  man  then  said,  "  If  thou 
seest  anything  in  me  worthy  of  death, 
why  then  take  my  life." 

John  Searing  did  not  feel  free,  con 
science  free,  to  perform  such  a  behest. 

Such  perfect  trust  in  Divine  protec 
tion  disarmed  the  atrocious  wretch.  His 
arm  fell  powerless.  He  took  the  good 
man  prisoner  and  carried  him  to  the  colo 
nel,  who  respected  his  religious  scruples. 

His  walk  home  over  the  fields  alone 
was  full  of  the  joy  and  peace  of  a  faith 
ful  believer.  He  used  through  his  after 
life  to  recur  to  it  as  the  most  delightful 
walk  he  ever  took. 


780 


American  Revolution. 


The  robbers,  on  entering  the  house  of 
Jphn_WiljiSi  were  so  exasperated  at 
finding  no  booty,  that  they  tied  the 
hands  of  all  the  family  behind  them,  as 
well  as  those  of  the  eminent  preacher, 
Joseph  Delaplaine,  who  was  their  guest 
at  the  time. 

They  dragged  the  wife  of  Mr.  Willis 
by  the  hair  about  the  house,  and  then 
left  them,  telling  them  that  they  had  set 
fire  to  the  house,  which  was  true,  as 
they  saw  the  flames  kindling  and  curl 
ing  up  the  wooden  jamb  beside  the  fire 
place.  Their  hands  all  tied  ! 

A  jpung  woman  named  Phebe  Powell, 
by  dint  of  the  most  powerful  efforts^  at 
length  loosened  one  of  her  hands  and 
ran  to  extinguish  the  flames,  which  she 
succeeded  in  doing  before  releasing  the 
rest  from  their  thongs ! 


American  Revolution. 


T1TEART-SICK,  and  weary  of  record 
ing  these  deeds  of  horror,  and  long 
ing  to  divert  the  thoughts  and  allay  the 
feelings  of  indignation  and  unquiet,  to 
which  they  give  rise  and  continually 
keep  in  exercise,  I  determined  to  de 
vote  this  morning  to  the  perusaljofJM^ 
jor_Musgrave's  writing2  which,  though 
it  fills  my  soul  with  sadness,  exasperated 
and  harassed  as  it  is  in  my  present  state, 
must  still  be  a  relief,  though  a  momen 
tary  one. 

I  insert  it  in  my  diary  for  your  peru 
sal,  trusting  that  you  will  participate, 
my  dear  husband,  in  the  interest  I  felt 
for  my  lost  friend,  and  will  feel  with  me 
a  lively  concern  in  what  so  nearly  relates 
to  him. 


THE  MANUSCRIPT  OF  MAJOR  MUSGRAVE. 

"  Inclination  and  gratitude,  my  dear 

107 


1780 


Saturday. 


1780  American  Revolution. 

madam,  prompt  me  to  relate  to  you 
some  of  the  secrets  of  my  life,  feeling 
assured,  from  the  interest  you  have  tes 
tified  in  me,  that  it  will  not  be  deemed 
burdensome  or  intrusive. 

"  My  youth  was  passed  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  pretty  town  of  Tiverton,  in  De 
vonshire,  surrounded  by  most  sweet  and 
pleasant  influences. 

"  The  window  of  the  little  dormitory 
from  which  my  eye  used  to  wander  on 
awakening  from  my  morning  slumbers, 
took  in  a  wide  and  beautiful  range ; 
distant  hills,  verdant  soft  meadows, 
browsing  sheep,  and  lowing  herds. 
The  little  river  Ex,  like  a  thread  of  sil 
ver,  ran  through  and  around  them  all, 
to  join  the  Lowman,  and  even  passed 
through  the  main  street  of  the  village. 
In  midsummer  we  could  jump  over  it; 
but  in  the  spring  time,  when  it  was 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


swollen  by  the  rains,  we  had  to  go 
around  and  cross  it  by  the  bridge. 

"  Our  noble  mansion  stood  on  an 
eminence,  commanding  a  fine  view  of 
the  surrounding  park,  and  the  upland 
and  meadows  beyond. 

"  The  inmates  consisted  of  my  wi 
dowed  mother,  one  brother,  myself,  and 
an  orphan  cousin. 

"Howard  and  I  were  very  unlike; 
he  a  boy  of  noble  impulses,  but  vola 
tile,  unsteady,  impulsive.  Of  a  contem 
plative  turn  myself,  I  was  studious,  and 
though  deep,  strong,  and  ardent  in  feel 
ing,  yet  of  a  calm,  quiet  demeanor. 
While  Howard  made  himself  heard 
wherever  he  was,  engaging  in  field 
sports,  violent  exercises,  running,  wrest 
ling,  and  leaping,  I  stayed  at  home  in 
the  large  library  chair,  buried  in  some  ex 
citing  wild  romance,  legend,  or  tradition. 
8 


169 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


"  In  my  earliest  years  my  imagina 
tion  revelled  in  tales  of  enchantment 
and  fairy-land ;  when  older,  it  wondered, 
delighted,  and  fed  on  the  lore  of  chi 
valry  ;  built  feudal  castles  in  the  air  and 
stormed  them;  battled  down  portcullis, 
crossed  the  moat,  stood  first  in  the  court, 
a  bold  knight  and  true,  encased  in  ar 
mor,  fighting  his  way  through  deadly 
foes,  armed  to  the  teeth,  eager  to  plant 
the  standard  of  his  chief  on  the  castle 
summit,  or  to  rescue  from  oppression  and 
confinement  the  faire  ladye  of  his  love. 

"  This  fuel  to  an  already  heated  ima 
gination,  poisonous  food  to  a  mind  so 
constituted  (a  temperament  highly  ex 
citable),  was  deadening  to  all  the  prac 
tical  uses  of  life. 

"  My  dear  mother  did  not  undertake 
to  direct  our  pursuits  or  watch  our  men 
tal  habits ;  so  that  we  were  out  of  harm, 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


she  left  us  to  pursue  the  even  tenor  of 
our  way  in  peace. 

"  So  I  grew  up  a  visionary;  averse  to 
society,  to  active  life,  yet  with  a  pure 
heart,  and  a  high  moral  sense. 

"  Howard  had  a  roving  disposition, 
and  longed  to  see  the  world,  which  I 
only  knew,  or  cared  to  know,  through 
books.  He  entered  the  Royal  Navy, 
that  his  wandering  propensities  might 
have  'ample  scope  and  verge  enough.' 
He  was  two  years  my  senior. 

"After  what  has  been  said,  you  will 
readily  believe  that  if  love  should  take 
possession  of  my  heart,  it  would  prove 
an  absorbing,  consuming  passion.  So 
hath  it  proved. 

"  In  my  sixteenth  year  Grace  Arden 
went  to  school  at  a  distance  from  home. 
When  she  was  gone  I  first  knew  that  I 
loved  her,  and  loved  her  not  as  a  sister 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


as  I  thought  I  did.  I  missed  her  every 
moment,  and  longed  for  her  return.  In 
one  year  she  came ;  not  only  in  my  eyes, 
which  were  those  of  a  lover,  but  in  the 
eyes  of  everybody,  transcendently  beau 
tiful,  lovely,  and  engaging  beyond  de 
scription. 

"  I  might  dwell  in  rapture  on  those 
graces,  and  glowingly  paint  from  the 
heart  on  which  they  are  indelibly  en 
graven,  the  impression  of  their  ineffable 
loveliness;  but  it  is  breaking  at  the 
thought  that  it  is  not  for  me  that  she  is 
so  fair;  that  all  her  wealth  of  charms 
which  I  gazed  and  doated  on,  dreamed 
about,  counted  my  own,  and  idolized  as 
a  miser  does  his  gold,  was  snatched  from 
my  grasp ;  and  that  the  fruit  so  fair  to 
the  eye,  proved — can  I  say  it? — but 
ashes,  and  bitterness  within. 

"  But  I  could  never  impute  a  fault  to 


American  Revolution. 


780 


Grace,  then,  and  it  almost  kills  me  to 
write  it  now ! 

"I  told  my  love  to  her;  she  listened 
with  maidenly  grace,  seemed  moved, 
excited,  and  said  it  was  returned.  In 
short,  Grace  accepted  my  suit.  I  was 
happy — oh,  how  happy  ! — in  the  convic 
tion  ! 

"  We  rode  through  groves  and  sha 
dowy  lanes ;  by  moonlight  paced  the 
terrace,  breathing  vows  of  love  ;  strolled 
by  the  rivulet,  and  sat  down  by  its  side, 
mingling  our  voices  with  its  ripple,  sing 
ing,  musing,  whispering  ever  of  one  and 
the  same  theme — love  !  With  Grace 
it  was  a  sentiment,  with  me  a  passion ; 
with  her  a  pastime,  with  me  the  destiny  of 
my  life  ;  with  her  evanescent,  changeful 
as  the  April  clouds,  with  me  enrooted 
and  entwined  among  the  very  heart 
strings  ! 


173 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


"  Now,  when  I  retrace  these  scenes, 
it  seemeth  strange,  and  I  wonder  that  I 
clothed  her  mind  in  so  many  sweet  per 
fections.  But  then  I  know  that  I  made 
her  the  embodiment  of  the  fair  vision  of 
a  fervid  imagination ;  the  ideal  charmer, 
complete  in  every  feminine  grace ;  in 
vesting  her  with  all  that  fancy  pictured 
fair,  and  wise,  and  good  in  woman ! 
Methinks  I  hear  you  sigh.  So  do  I, 
now  the  dream  is  over.  Had  any  one 
then  whispered  the  shadow  of  a  suspi 
cion  of  the  constancy  of  my  Grace,  I 
should  have  regarded  it  as  the  vain  bab 
bling  of  a  fool. 

"  The  house  was  thrown  into  un 
wonted  confusion  by  the  news  that 
Howard  was  returned  from  the  Medi 
terranean,  in  the  ship  of  war  Vulcan  ; 
and  when  he  came  dashing  in  one  day  in 
the  Royal  Navy  uniform,  his  brown  curls 


171 


American  Revolution.  1780 

falling  about  his  handsome  embrowned 
face,  as  he  removed  his  cap,  kissed  Grace, 
and  the  blood  mantled  her  face,  I  felt 
a  slight  twinge ;  but  it  quickly  passed, 
for  I  was  secure  of  my  possession — her 
undivided  heart. 

"  I  said  nothing  of  our  engagement 
to  Howard,  nor  did  Grace,  thinking  it 
prudent  not  to  publish  it  until  my  path 
and  business  in  life  was  marked  out. 

"  Howard  remained  on  shore  six 
weeks,  and  we  crowded  into  this  short 
space  of  time  much  enjoyment.  We 
one  day  took  a  more  than  ordinary  dis 
tant  ride  on  horseback;  Grace  dearly 
loved  the  exercise,  and  Howard  was  an 
accomplished  horseman.  I  endured  it 
for  her  sake,  for  otherwise  I  had  no  plea 
sure  in  it. 

"  The  day  was  fine,  and  we  rode  far 
among  the  Devonshire  hills.  Howard 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


led  the  way  up  their  steep  sides,  often 
where  neither  road  nor  path  could  be 
traced,  chatting  and  laughing  merrily 
all  the  time,  for  his  spirits  were  inex 
haustible. 

"  The  sun  was  near  setting  when 
Grace  switched  up  her  little  grey  pal 
frey  and  left  us  behind ;  in  a  moment 
she  was  out  of  sight,  and  in  another  we 
heard  a  scream.  Howard  put  the  spurs 
into  his  horse  and  dashed  on.  For  one 
instant  I  was  stunned  in  alarm,  but  I 
followed  with  the  swiftness  of  light. 
Fie  was  in  time  to  save  her ! 

"  She  had  mounted  to  the  summit  of 
the  hill  so  rapidly,  that  she  found  it  im 
possible  to  arrest  her  progress  on  the 
brink  of  the  precipice  or  declivity  on  the 
other  side,  and  it  could  not  be  seen  un 
til  it  was  too  late  to  avert  the  danger. 

"  The  horse  fell  and  rolled  over  and 

178 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


over,  Grace  still  fast,  unable  to  extricate 
herself.  At  this  point  Howard  reached 
the  spot,  leaped  from  his  horse,  ran 
down  the  steep  place,  caught  the  pal 
frey  by  the  rein,  and  when  I  came  up, 
was  holding  Grace  in  his  arms,  insensi 
ble  and  pale  as  marble. 

"  I  thanked  Heaven  in  a  mental  eja 
culation  for  her  preservation ;  but  wished 
— how  deeply  ! — that  /  might  have  been 
her  deliverer.  When  Grace  at  length 
opened  her  eyes,  and  lifted  them  till 
they  rested  on  Howard's  face  ;  when  she 
murmured  his  name,  looked  her  thanks, 
and  seemed  so  content  in  her  position, 
I  felt  another  twinge,  and  wished  him 
on  the  blue  Mediterranean,  if  not  at  the 
bottom  of  it. 

"  For  a  few  days  after  this  accident 
I  felt  a  little  nervous,  and  the  usual 

finale  of  such  a  catastrophe — the  love  of 

8* 


1780  American  Revolution. 

the  lady — haunted  my  thoughts  conti 
nually. 

"  But  I  saw  nothing  to  excite  the 
least  suspicion.  Grace  was  as  confiding 
and  loving  as  before,  and  I  never  loved 
her  half  so  well. 

"  In  a  few  days  after  I  went  to  Lon 
don  for  a  week  (for  which  I  have  ac 
cused,  nay,  hated  myself  since).  My 
mother  wished  me  to  go  on  some  busi 
ness  transaction  for  the  family. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  the  thought  of 
Grace  and  Howard's  being  constantly 
thrown  together  did  not  cross  my  mind 
rather  unpleasantly;  but  it  was  dismissed, 
I  remember,  as  an  unworthy  one,  and 
implicit  faith  in  the  truth  and  fidelity  of 
my  love  was  triumphant. 

u  The  day  after  my  return  Howard 
sailed  for  the  West  Indies. 

"  I  thought  Grace  was  distracted  and 


178 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


sad;  rather  more  so  than  parting  with 
one  for  whom  she  had  only  a  cousinly 
attachment  might  warrant.  But  in  a 
little  while  she  cheered  up,  and  appeared 
almost  unchanged. 

"Grace  and  I  were  inseparable,  and 
she  acted  well  her  part.  Oh,  hateful 
dissimulation ! 

"  I  was  sleeping  on  the  brink  of  ruin ; 
basking  in  the  sunlight  on  the  bosom  of 
the  earth  which  was  to  engulf  me ;  lis 
tening  only  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer, 
but  deaf  to  the  tone  of  warning ! 

"Yet  the  beautiful  mask  must  fall, 
soon  or  late ;  I  must  be  awakened  from 
the  fascinating  dream. 

"  The  truth  one  day  was  revealed. 
Letters  came  from  Howard;  one  for 
my  mother,  and  one  for  me,  and  an 
other  for  Grace. 

"  Ours  were  read  aloud,  and  handed 


179 


i;8o 


American  Revolution. 


about ;  she  went  away  to  open  hers.  I 
rallied  her  on  her  return  to  the  drawing- 
room  about  keeping  her  letter  so  secret, 
and  said  it  was  but  a  fair  return  of  favor 
to  share  it  with  us. 

"  In  looking  at  her,  I  thought  she  had 
been  weeping;  there  were  evident  traces 
of  tears  on  her  face. 

"Grace  saw  my  surprise,  and  said 
something  soothing  and  evasive.  My 
excited  suspicions  were  again  lulled. 
Oh,  fond,  infatuated  fool ! 

"  I  would  fain  linger,  and  shrink  from 
the  dreadful  final  hour.  My  dear,  dear 
friend,  I  know  your  warm  heart  teels 
for  me,  and  its  sympathy  is  grateful, 
although  it  fails  to  assuage  my  sorrow. 

"  Though  Grace  maintained  the  same 
demeanor  towards  me,  I  began  to  feel  a 
change.  Still  the  reality  never  dawned 
on  my  mind.  Could  I  distrust  a  being 


American  Revolution.  1780 


whom  I  loved  as  my  own  soul  ?  Loved 
idolatrously,  and  therefore  sinfully,  you 
will  say,  and  as  I  too  have  since  learned 
to  see  it.  But  it  was  as  uncontrollable 
as  phrensy ;  as  vain  then  the  attempt  to 
moderate  or  temper  it,  as  to  allay  the 
storm-wind  with  a  breath,  or  to  lull  the 
tempestuous  sea. 

"  I  said  that  I  felt  a  change.  She  had 
a  sort  of  patient,  enduring  manner  when 
with  me ;  a  want  of  responsive  warmth 
of  feeling;  languor,  if  not  indifference, 
was  plainly  discernible.  To  sum  all,  I 
experienced  no  more  that  indescribable 
blissfulness,  that  repose,  that  joy,  that 
perfect  happiness  in  her  presence,  which 
reciprocal  love  once  gave.  The  casket 
was  there,  but  the  precious,  priceless 
gem  was  lost ! 

"  How  long  this  state  of  deception 
on  one  part,  and  delusion  on  the  other, 


181 


1  780  American  Revolution. 

might  have  lasted,  I  know  not.  I  was 
again  called  to  London.  Excuse  me, 
dear  madam,  from  dwelling  on  distaste 
ful,  painful  details;  you  will  pardon  me 
if  I  hasten  my  relation  towards  its  pain 
ful  close,  and  will  believe  that  every 
incident  connected  with  this  journey  is 
hateful  to  me,  though  stamped  as  with 
red-hot  iron  upon  my  seared  brain. 
This  is  strong  language ;  you  will  say 
it  is  the  language  of  passion.  True,  my 
dearest  lady;  but  can  I  speak  calmly, 
though  on  the  bed  of  death,  of  the  re 
fined  cruelty  of  suffering,  the  heart 
breaking  misery  which  I  at  that  time 
endured? 

"  Of  the  bitterness  of  such  a  retro 
spection,  the  exquisite  pain  of  such  a 
memory  (the  fine  edge  of  which  is  never 
blunted),  may  neither  you  nor  yours 
ever  have  the  faintest  conception. 


189 


American  Revolution.  1780 

"  I  received  two  letters  while  in  Lon 
don  ;  one  for  myself,  the  other  to  be 
mailed  by  me  to  Howard.  Of  the  cor 
respondence  I  was  aware,  and  thought 
it  but  natural  and  cousinly  in  Grace, 
unsuspicious  that  I  was ! 

"  With  a  lover's  impatience  I  opened 
my  own,  as  I  thought.  These  are  the 
words  which  greeted  my  eyes :  4  Oh, 
dearest  Howard,  can  I  longer  bear  this 
cruel  separation?'  I  was  startled,  but 
I  instantly  thought,  'The  mistake  is 
only  in  the  name.  It  was  quite  a  natu 
ral  one  in  writing  two  letters.'  I  read 
on  :  '  It  is  hard  to  seem  to  love  another, 
when  my  heart  is  wholly  yours.'  The 
knife  was  driven  into  mine,  but  not  yet 
to  the  core.  I  thought  myself  justified 
in  reading  on,  or  rather  now  think  so; 
then  I  should  have  laughed  at  the  ques 
tion.  Not  open  my  eyes  when  led 


1780  American  Revolution. 

blindfolded  to  the  brink?  Shut  them 
to  the  perfidy  which  betrays,  destroys 
me? 

"A  dimness  came  over  my  sight,  a 
sense  of  faintness,  and  yet  I  read  on : 
'Charles  is  as  listless  and  spiritless  as 
ever.  I  do  wish  he  possessed  a  spark 
of  the  fire  of  jour  ambition,  a  particle 
of  force  of  character;  he  would  be  at 
all  events  the  more  agreeable  as  a  com 
panion;  as  to  love,  that  is  in  vain  for 
him  to  win,  or  keep,  with  his  brilliant 
brother  for  a  competitor.'  Dizziness 
overpowering  compelled  me  to  pause 
ere  I  broke  the  seal  of  the  other  letter, 
for  the  truth  now  flashed  upon  me  : 
4  These  cruel  words  were  intended  for 
Howard,  and  the  letter  was  directed 
wrongly  to  me!3 

"  At  length  I  opened  the  true  one,  or 
rather  the  false  one — false  indeed ! 


184 


American  Revolution.  1780 

"  There  were  indeed  no  protestations 
of  love,  but  it  was  taken  for  granted 
through  the  whole ;  and  a  longing 
anxiety  was  expressed  for  my  return, 
and  many  kind  things  said. 

"  In  an  agony  of  disappointment  I 
tore  the  paper  into  shreds,  and  stamped 
it  beneath  my  heel,  and  wept — wept 
such  tears  as  manhood  sheds — tears 
wrung  from  the  soul !  But  in  an  in 
stant  I  resealed  the  precious  document 
to  Howard,  rang,  and  instantly  dis 
patched  it. 

"  I  was  not  ill,  no  fever  seized  me  ; 
outwardly  I  was  calm.  But  the  sick 
ness  of  despair,  of  grief,  of  deception,  of 
wounded  feeling  and  betrayed  affection, 
prostrated  body  and  spirit.  They  have 
been  doing  their  work  on  this  weary 
frame  from  that  moment,  bringing  me 
to  what  you  have  seen.  God  knows  I 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


have  striven  against  it.  A  strong  delu 
sion,  you  will  perhaps  think.  Yes,  it 
was.  I  can,  and  could  reason  well ;  ques 
tion  myself  as  to  its  sin,  and  smile  at 
the  folly  of  regretting  one  so  unworthy. 
But  the  spectre  of  my  lost  love  haunted 
me  with  its  sweetness,  its  charm.  It 
stood  before  me  when  I  attempted  to 
mingle  with  my  fellows,  when  I  lay 
upon  my  sleepless  pillow,  when  I  knelt 
in  prayer,  sat  at  my  untasted  meals,  or 
entered  the  house  of  God.  The  sense 
of  misery,  of  desertion,  viper-like,  preyed 
upon  my  lacerated  heart ! 

"To  go  home,  it  was  impossible. 
For  me  there  was  no  home.  Affection 
maketh  a  home.  And  yet  I  felt  that 
there  was  one  being  to  whom  I  must 
pour  out  my  sorrow,  on  whose  loving 
breast  it  would  soothe  me  to  rest  my 
aching  head — my  Mother ! 

186 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


"  I  wrote  to  her,  entreated  her  to  come 
to  London  quickly;  to  come  alone,  on 
business,  or  any  other  plea. 

"  She  came,  and  was  shocked  at  my 
appearance  beyond  measure.  I  told  her 
all.  She  wept  with  me.  The  only 
balm  that  had  been  poured  into  the 
wound — her  sympathy — was  sweet,  but 
it  could  not  cure  me.  Astonished  and 
aggrieved,  she  wished  to  intercede. 
The  idea  was  intolerable  to  me.  I 
shrank  from  it  with  inconceivable  dis 
like,  and  exacted  a  promise  from  her  of 
entire  silence. 

"  London  would  not  hold  me  now, 
nor  England.  I  must  go  somewhere. 
My  mother  suggested  the  Continent. 
New  scenes  and  travel,  she  felt  sure, 
would  in  time  restore  me  to  my  wonted 
cheerfulness.  Oh,  little  my  mother  knew 
of  the  spirit-wound  I  had  received ! 


187 


1780 


American  Revolution. 


"  The  revolt  of  the  American  Colo 
nies  had  broken  out.  It  was  the  field 
for  me.  I  knew  that  I  must  have  ac 
tion;  it  was  the  only  escape  from  the 
thoughts  which  assailed  me,  the  phan 
tom  of  the  past  which  pursued  and 
tormented  without  ceasing. 

"  It  was  a  dreadful  separation  to  my 
mother.  If  a  mother  ever  feels  an  in- 
tenser  love  for  one  child  than  for  an 
other,  mine  did  for  me ;  a  son  after  her 
own  heart,  dependent  on  her  for  sympa 
thy,  even  when  a  child,  and  as  a  man, 
trustful,  confiding,  and  affectionate.  Be 
sides,  was  I  not  now  the  object  of  her 
deep  commiseration?  The  tenderest 
emotions  of  the  heart  flowed  out  to  me 
in  near  and  embracing  sympathy. 

"  I  cannot  recur  to  the  parting  scene. 
Having  obtained  a  commission  of  rank 
in  the  army,  I  embarked  for  the  Colo- 


188 


American  Revolution. 


1780 


nies.  Here  I  have  been  struggling  with 
fate  three  long  years.  You,  my  dear 
Mrs.  C—  — ,  have  seen  the  end.  Your 
tears  fall.  You  weep  that  one  so  young 
should  be  the  victim  of  unrestrained 
passion.  It  is  sorrowful  thus  to  die. 
But  Death,  I  hail  thee  as  a  merciful 
messenger !  I  know  that  I  am  in  the 
hands  of  One  who  knoweth  and  pitieth 
my  infirmities.  He  will  have  mercy 
on  me.  All  my  pangs,  my  struggles, 
are  not  hid  from  him.  He  heareth  the 
voice  of  my  prayer.  Blessed  be  his  holy 
name  ! 

"  P.S.  I  heard  two  years  since  of 
the  marriage  of  Howard.  I  can,  and 
do  forgive  them.  .  .  .  Place  the  minia 
ture  on  my  heart.  Send  the  other  keep 
sakes  to  my  precious  mother.  My  heart 
aches  for  her  in  anticipation  of  the  an 
guish  she  will  have  on  my  account ! 


189 


1780  American  Revolution. 

God  bless  her!  And  you,  my  dear 
lady,  your  honored  father,  and  little 
ones.  You  have  all  solaced  and  com 
forted  me." 

Will  not  tears  indeed  flow  at  the  pe 
rusal  of  this  affecting  recital  ?  I  regret, 
dear  Edward,  that  you  never  knew  Ma 
jor  Musgrave ;  I  am  sure  that  your  dis 
criminating  judgment  would  have  led 
you  to  appreciate  him. 

We  still  feel  his  loss  deeply.  Even 
Charles,  though  young  and  volatile,  was 
saddened  many  days  after  his  departure, 
as  were  the  servants,  and  every  one 
about  the  house.  Old  Nero  would 
have  done  anything  to  serve  him.  I 
have  seen  tears  coursing  down  his  dark 
face  when  the  Major,  on  some  mild 
sunny  morning,  assisted  out  by  Shultz, 
would  stand  in  his  dressing-gown,  lean- 


American  Revolution.  1781 

ing  against  the  garden  gate,  looking  so 
woful  and  so  pale  !  No  wonder  Nero's 
heart  was  touched;  he  has  as  warm  a 
one  as  ever  beat  beneath  a  white  man's 
breast. 

AN  unusual  press  for  men  and  horses       $unday. 

to-day.  The  Sabbath  is  no  more 
regarded  than  any  other  day,  especially 
as  it  affords  a  favorable  time  for  stealing 
hay,  cattle,  etc.,  when  most  of  the  men 
are  attending  divine  worship. 

Being  at  private  devotions,  I  was  in 
terrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Charles, 
shouting  vociferously,  "  The  Britisher  is 
after  NeroJ" 

It  seems  that  a  light-horseman  rode 
up  rapidly  to  He nrj^Patti son's,  inquiring 
for  men;  all  were  gone  to  meeting. 
He  looked  about  and  in  the  house,  and 
satisfied  himself  of  the  fact,  but  unfor- 


iySi  American  Revolution. 

tunately  espied  our  Nero  standing  in  the 
stable  doorway. 

"By  Jove,"  said  he,  "I'll  have  that 
negro." 

Seeing  the  soldier  running  towards 
him,  poor  Nero  expected  to  be  taken, 
and  was  already  trying  to  reconcile  him 
self  to  his  fate,  but  he  suddenly  thought, 
"  It's  not  worth  while  to  give  in  without 
an  effort."  So,  keeping  the  barn  be 
tween  himself  and  his  pursuer,  he  made 
for  a  large  hay-stack  enclosed  in  the 
middle  of  the  field. 

The  red-coat  ran  his  horse  violently, 
with  the  intention,  doubtless,  of  overtak 
ing  him  before  he  reached  the  stack ;  but 
Nero,  though  rather  old  and  stiff,  reached 
it,  and  jumped  over  the  fence  of  en 
closure. 

Almost  instantly  the  Britisher  rode  up 
with  his  drawn  sword,  and  swore  if  he 


American  Revolution.  1781 

did  not  yield  himself  up,  he  would  run 
him  through. 

We  now  saw  the  soldier  ride  furiously 
round  the  hay-stack,  and  old  Nero  get 
on  it,  although  with  some  difficulty,  for 
it  was  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high.  Then 
the  enemy  dismounted  and  leaped  over 
the  fence.  Nero  running  backwards 
and  forwards  on  the  hay-stack  (the  top 
of  it  was  flat  and  about  thirty  feet  long), 
the  soldier  striking  at  him  unsuccessfully 
with  his  sword  all  the  time.  At  length 
we  saw  that  he  too  got  upon  the  hay 
stack,  and  we  gave  up  poor  Nero;  his 
fate  seemed  inevitable.  Not  so;  he 
most  adroitly  eluded  the  light-horseman ; 
jumped  off,  crossed  the  fence,  and  made 
for  the  woods. 

His  pursuer  meanwhile  mounted  his 
horse  and  was  in  hot  pursuit ;  indeed, 
close  at  his  heels.  Luckily  there  was  a 


1781 


American  Revolution. 


thick  hedge  to  cross,  where  our  old  hero 
had  the  advantage,  for  the  horse  would 
not  leap  it,  and  the  rider,  fuming  and 
cursing  dreadfully,  was  obliged  to  dis 
mount  again  ;  but  the  fugitive  was  now 
far  on  his  way  to  the  woods,  where  it 
was  fruitless  to  follow.  He  was  in  such 
a  rage  at  being  thus  baffled,  that  Nero 
would  have  fared  badly  had  he  ever 
fallen  into  his  hands.  He  remained  in 
the  woods  until  after  dark,  when  he 
crept  home,  and  received  a  warm  wel 
come,  especially  from  the  children. 


Tuesday. 

I   ' 


news  of  the  battle  of  Yorktown 
confirmed. 

Some  months  since  General  Wash 
ington  broke  up  the  camp  at  White 
Plains  and  crossed  the  Hudson  river, 
passed  quietly  through  the  Jerseys  and 
the  Province  of  Pennsylvania,  and  joined 


194 


American  Revolution.  1781 


the  young  Marquis  de  la  Fayette,  who 
commanded  a  large  force  at  Elk  river. 

Here  they  separated  the  forces,  one 
body  sailing  for  Virginia,  the  other 
marching  for  the  same  point. 

At  a  place  called  Chester  (I  believe 
in  the  Province  of  Pennsylvania),  Gene 
ral  Washington  heard  the  joyful  news 
of  the  arrival  of  twenty-four  French  ships 
of  the  line,  under  Count  de  Grasse. 

They  had  an  engagement  with  the 
enemy  under  Admiral  Graves,  in  which 
the  French  Allies  were  victors,  and  left 
masters  of  the  Bay  of  Chesapeake. 

The  whole  American  force  under 
Washington  surrounded  the  king's 
troops  at  Yorktown;  they  were  block 
aded  by  land  and  by  water  by  an  army 
(including  French  and  militia)  of  16,000. 

The  tremendous  firing  of  artillery 
took  the  enemy  by  storm  ;  they  could 


American  Revolution. 


neither  rally  nor  recover.  Their  bat 
teries  and  defences  were  completely  de 
molished  ;  their  guns  were  silenced,  and 
no  hope  of  relief  or  way  of  escape  re 
mained. 

On  the  iyth  of  October,  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  the  British  commander  of  the 
land  forces,  proposed  a  cessation  of  hos 
tilities,  and  two  days  afterwards  surren 
dered  ;  and  articles  were  signed  by  which 
the  troops,  stores,  and  shipping  fell  into 
the  hands  of  General  Washington. 
Thus  was  the  pride  of  the  royal  army 
laid  low. 

The  thanks  and  praise  be  to  God! 
We  do  not  dare  ascribe  it  to  the  strength 
of  an  arm  of  flesh,  but  to  the  righteous 
ness  of  our  cause,  and  to  the  might  and 
power  our  great  commander  hath  been 
endued  with  from  on  high. 

The  people  are  cautious  in  their  ex- 


American  Revolution. 


1781 


pressions,  being  surrounded  by  the  Bri 
tish;  but  their  joy  is  irrepressible  at  the 
good  news,  though  no  public  demonstra 
tion  can  be  made. 

Divine  service  was  performed  in  the 
American  brigades,  and  the  Commander- 
in-Chief  recommended  that  all  who  were 
not  on  duty  should  join  in  worship, 
enjoining  "a  serious  deportment,  and 
that  sensibility  of  heart  which  the  recol 
lection  of  the  surprising  and  particular 
interposition  of  Divine  Providence  in 
our  favor  claims." 


joy  reigns  in  a  large  por 
tion  of  the  country,  we  are  not 
released  from  persecution.  It  has  in 
deed  been  at  times  almost  beyond 
endurance.  "Day  unto  day  uttereth 
speech."  Sometimes  we  are  ready  to 
exclaim,  "  Wo  is  the  day  that  ever  my 


Wet 


'nesday 


1781 


American  Revolution. 


Nov.  $tk. 


eyes  saw  the  light ! "  But  the  morning 
is  breaking;  our  Father  in  heaven  hath 
not  utterly  hid  his  face  from  us. 

1V/TY  husband  writes  most  cheeringly. 
The  letter  was  brought  by  a  friend 
of  Major  Musgrave,  who  wished  to 
make  inquiries  respecting  him,  and  take 
charge  of  his  effects.  The  gentleman 
seemed  to  have  loved  him  well,  and  to 
have  appreciated  the  sweetness  and  deli 
cacy  of  his  nature.  He  was  much 
moved  at  my  recital  of  the  Major's  suf 
ferings,  mental  and  bodily.  We  weep, 
but  not  for  him ;  he  sleepeth  well. 

A    DAY  of  public  thanksgiving.    May 
the    incense    of  prayer  and  praise 
ascend  from  the  altar  of  my  heart ! 

My  honored  father  participates  in  the 
general  joy;  not  for  the  discomfiture  of 


198 


American  Revolution. 


the  British,  but  from  the  hope  of  peace, 
which  his  soul  loveth,  and  the  healing 
of  discord. 


1782 


TT  is  the  first  day  of  the  year.  The 
little  ones  are  very  merry,  and  are 
wishing  all  they  meet  "  a  happy  coming 
year."  It  is  for  them  a  pleasant  day,  but 
we  are  saddened  by  its  recurrence.  The 
sunshine  of  their  hearts  is  not  clouded; 
blessed  season  of  hope  and  joy !  In  my 
own,  too,  it  dawns  more  brightly  than 
the  last.  My  loved  partner  is  not  here, 
but  I  have  cause  to  sing  the  song  of 
deliverance,  in  that  his  precious  life  hath 
been  preserved  amid  so  many  and  great 
dangers,  which  he  has  never  shunned 
but  rather  courted.  Is  not  the  prospect 
brightened  for  my  country  since  this 
time  last  year4?  And  for  him  whom 
the  voice  of  men  placed  at  the  helm— 


in.  i st. 


199 


1782 


American  Revolution. 


Aug. 


.  loth 


the  great  Washington  —  is  there  no  joy, 
no  gratitude,  in  the  deep  places  of  my 
heart,  that  God  hath  raised  him  up,  hath 
preserved,  hath  prospered  him  ? 


of  Lord  Norths  resignation 
of  the  office  of  Prime  Minister, 
and  the  forming  of  a  new  cabinet,  who 
advise  His  Majesty  to  discontinue  the 
war.  Glorious  news  !  Heaven  grant 
it  may  be  true.  It  is  certain  the  war 
has  proved  but  great  loss  of  life  and 
treasure,  without  any  real  gain  to  Eng 
lish  valor,  or  concession  on  the  part  of 
the  Colonies. 

Faces  of  men,  women,  and  children, 
brighten  with  expectation  of  better  times. 
May  their  hope  be  not  again  over 
clouded  !  In  war  there  is  not  a  gleam 
of  light  to  illuminate  the  darkness.  Its 
practices  are  adverse  to  the  law  of  con- 


200 


American  Re-volution. 


science,    and    lacerating  to   the   feeling 
heart. 

We  are  ready  to  shout  the  pean  of 
victory,  to  exult  afar  off  in  the  triumph, 
and  to  cheer  on  the  conflict.  But  could 
we  witness  the  heart-sickening  details, 
see  the  loathsome  reality,  hear  the  pierc 
ing  groan,  the  horrid  imprecation,  the 
fiendish  laugh,  we  should  "rejoice  with 
trembling,"  and  mourn  the  necessity, 
while  we  return  thanks  for  the  victory. 

Then  let  us  pause  in  silence,  and 
while  the  good  angel  of  our  thoughts 
brings  to  our  recollection  the  frightful 
Gorgon-brood  of  evils  which  follow  in 
the  train  of  War,  pray  without  ceasing 
that  Peace  may  come  and  reign  in  our 
land. 


cry  of  peace   resounds  !     The 
The   children 


news  came  to-day. 
* 


201 


1782 


April  23. 


1783  American  Revolution. 

ran  from  school,  dismissed  by  the  teacher^ 
that  all  might  share  in  the  general  joy. 
They  are  told  that  some  great  good  has 
happened,  they  know  not  what.  The 
time  will  come  when  they  will  experi 
ence  and  treasure  it  as  the  highest  favor 
vouchsafed  by  a  kind  Providence.  God 
be  praised ! 

The  soldiers  and  Hessians  are  mov 
ing  off  in  bands,  and  the  sick  are  left 
behind  to  follow  after.  Many  of  the 
poor  creatures  have  formed  attachments, 
and  the  ties  of  kindness  and  gratitude 
are  hard  to  break.  The  human  heart, 
of  whatever  clime  or  station,  will  respond 
to  good  treatment;  and  it  is  cheering 
and  delightful  to  observe  that,  in  spite 
of  the  greatest  personal  inconvenience, 
by  patience  and  good  offices,  we  may 
awaken  interest  and  gratitude  in  those 
beneath  us. 


American  Revolution. 


Many  of  them  begged  to  be  permit 
ted  to  remain  in  some  menial  capacity; 
but  the  ties  of  kindred  prevailed  with 
the  greater  part. 


APPENDIX. 


A    SERMON 

PREACHED  ON  THE  EVE  OF  THE  BAT 
TLE  OF  BRANDYWINE  BY  THE  REV. 
JOAB  TROUT,  SEPTEMBER  loth,  1777. 

long  since,"  writes  Mr.  Hamil 
ton  Schefmyer,  "searching  into 
the  papers  of  my  grandfather,  Major 
John  Jacob  Schefmyer,  who  was  out  in 
the  days  of  the  Revolution,  I  found  the 
following  discourse,  delivered  in  the 
presence  of  a  large  portion  of  the  Ame 
rican  soldiery,  General  Washington, 
General  Wayne,  and  other  officers  of 
the  army,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of 
Brandywine." 


207 


American  Revolution. 


that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  ~by 
the  sword" — St.  Matthew,  chap.  27,  v.  52. 

SOLDIERS  AND  COUNTRYMEN: 

We  have  met  this  evening,  perhaps 
for  the  last  time !  We  have  shared 
the  toil  of  the  march,  the  peril  of  the 
fight,  and  the  dismay  of  the  retreat 
alike;  we  have  endured  the  cold  and 
hunger,  the  contumely  of  the  internal 
foe,  and  courage  of  the  foreign  oppres 
sor.  We  have  sat,  night  after  night, 
beside  the  camp  fire;  we  have  heard 
together  the  roll  of  the  reveille,  which 
called  us  to  duty,  or  the  beat  of  the 
tattoo,  which  gave  the  signal  for  the 
hardy  sleep  of  the  soldier,  with  the  earth 
for  his  bed  and  the  knapsack  for  his 
pillow. 

And  now,  soldiers  and  brethren,  we 


208 


American  Revolution. 


have  met  in  the  peaceful  valley  on  the 
eve  of  battle,  while  the  sunlight  is  dying 
away  behind  yonder  heights — the  sun 
light  that  to-morrow  morn  will  glimmer 
on  scenes  of  blood ! 

We  have  met  amid  the  whitening 
tents  of  our  encampment;  in  time  of 
terror  and  of  gloom  have  we  gathered 
together.  God  grant  it  may  not  be  for 
the  last  time ! 

It  is  a  solemn  moment,  brethren. 
Does  not  the  solemn  voice  of  nature 
seem  to  echo  the  sympathies  of  the 
hour  ?  The  flag  of  our  country  droops 
heavily  from  yonder  staff;  the  breeze 
has  died  away  along  the  green  plain  of 
Chadd's  Ford,  the  plain  that  spreads  be 
fore  us  glittering  in  the  sunlight.  The 
heights  of  the  Brandywine  arise  gloomy 
and  grand  beyond  the  waters  of  yonder 
stream.  All  nature  holds  a  solemn  si- 


American  Revolution. 


lence  on  the  eve  of  the  uproar,  of  the 
bloodshed  and  strife  of  to-morrow ! 

"  ^fhey  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  ly 
the  sword" 

And  have  they  not  taken  the  sword  ? 

Let  the  desolated  plain,  the  blood- 
sodden  valley,  the  burned  farm-house, 
blackening  in  the  sun,  the  sacked  vil 
lage,  and  the  ravaged  town,  answer! 
Let  the  whitening  bones  of  the  butch 
ered  farmer,  strewed  along  the  fields  of 
his  homestead,  answer!  Let  the  starv 
ing  mother,  with  the  babe  clinging  to 
the  withered  breast  that  can  afford  no 
sustenance,  let  her  answer,  with  the  death- 
rattle  mingling  with  the  murmuring 
tones  that  mark  the  last  struggle  of  life  ! 
Let  that  dying  mother  and  her  babe 


answer ! 


It  was  but  a  day  past,  and  our  land 
slept  in  the  quiet  of  peace.     War  was 


American  Revolution.  - 


not  here ;  wrong  was  not  here.  Fraud, 
and  wo,  and  misery,  and  want  dwelt  not 
among  us.  From  the  eternal  solitude 
of  the  green  woods  rose  the  blue  smoke 
of  the  settler's  cabin,  and  golden  fields 
of  corn  looked  forth  from  amid  the 
waste  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  glad 
music  of  human  voices  awoke  the  si 
lence  of  the  forest. 

Now — God  of  mercy  ! — behold  the 
change  !  Under  the  shadow  of  a  pre 
text,  under  the  sanctity  of  the  name  of 
God,  invoking  the  Redeemer  to  their 
aid,  do  these  foreign  hirelings  slay  our 
people  !  They  throng  our  towns,  they 
darken  our  plains,  and  now  they  encom 
pass  our  posts  on  the  lonely  plain  of 
Chadd's  Ford. 

"  T^hey  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  ~by 
the  sujord? 

Brethren,  think  me  not  unworthy  of 


American  Revolution. 


belief  when  I  tell  you  the  doom  of  the 
British  is  near !  Think  me  not  vain, 
when  I  tell  you  that  beyond  the  cloud 
that  now  enshrouds  us,  I  see  gathering, 
thick  and  fast,  the  darker  cloud  and  the 
blacker  storm  of  divine  retribution  ! 

They  may  conquer  us  to-morrow. 
Might  and  wrong  may  prevail,  and  we 
may  be  driven  from  this  field,  but  the 
hour  of  God's  own  vengeance  will 
come  ! 

Ay,  if  in  the  vast  solitudes  of  eter 
nal  space,  if  in  the  heart  of  the  bound 
less  universe,  there  throbs  the  being  of 
an  awful  God,  quick  to  avenge  and 
sure  to  punish  guilt,  then  wrill  the  man 
George  of  Brunswick,  called  King,  feel 
in  his  brain  and  his  heart  the  vengeance 
of  the  eternal  Jehovah !  A  blight  will 
be  upon  his  life,  a  withered  brain  and 
accursed  intellect ;  a  blight  will  be  upon 


212 


American  Revolution. 


his  children,  and  on  his  people  !  Great 
God,  how  dread  the  punishment! 

A  crowded  populace,  peopling  the 
dense  towns,  where  the  man  of  money 
thrives  while  the  laborer  starves ;  want 
striding'  among  the  people  in  all  its 
forms  of  teiror;  a  proud  and  merciless 
nobility  adding  wrong  to  wrong,  and 
heaping  insult  upon  robbery  and  fraud ; 
a  God-defying  priesthood ;  royalty  cor 
rupt  to  the  very  heart,  and  aristocracy 
rotten  to  the  core ;  crime  and  want 
linked  hand  in  hand  and  tempting  men 
to  deeds  of  wo  and  death;  these  are  a 
part  of  the  doom  and  retribution  that 
will  come  upon  the  English  throne,  and 
the  English  people  ! 

Soldiers,  I  look  around  upon  your 
familiar  faces  with  strange  interest.  To 
morrow  morning  we  will  all  go  forth  to 
the  battle ;  for  need  I  tell  you  that  your 


American  Revolution. 


unworthy  minister  will  march  with  you, 
invoking  God's  aid  in  the  fight  ?  We 
will  march  forth  to  battle  !  Need  I 
exhort  you  to  fight  the  good  fight;  to 
fight  for  your  homesteads,  for  your  wives 
and  children  ? 

My  friends,  I  might  urge  you  to  fight 
by  the  galling  memories  of  British 
wrong.  Walton,  I  might  tell  you  of 
your  father  butchered  in  the  silence  of 
night  on  the  plains  of  Trenton;  I  might 
picture  his  grey  hairs  dabbled  in  blood ; 
I  might  ring  his  death-shriek  in  your 
ears! 

Shelmire,  I  might  tell  you  of  a.  butch 
ered  mother  ;  the  lonely  farm-house,  the 
night  assault,  the  roof  in  flames,  the 
shouts  of  the  troopers  as  they  dispatched 
their  victims;  the  cries  for  mercy,  the 
pleadings  of  innocence  for  pity.  I  might 
paint  this  all  again  in  the  vivid  colors 


214 


American  Revolution. 


of  the  terrible  reality,  if  I  thought  your 
courage  needed  such  wild  excitement. 

But  I  know  you  are  strong  in  the 
might  of  the  Lord.  You  will  march 
forth  to  battle  on  the  morrow  with  light 
hearts  and  determined  spirits,  though 
the  solemn  duty,  the  duty  of  avenging 
the  dead,  may  rest  heavy  on  your  souls. 

And  in  the  hour  of  battle,  when  all 
around  the  darkness  is  lit  by  the  lurid 
cannon  glare,  and  the  piercing  musket 
flash,  when  the  wounded  strew  the 
ground  and  the  dead  litter  your  path, 
then  remember,  soldiers,  that  God  is 
with  you !  The  eternal  God  fights  for 
you  !  He  rides  on  the  battle-cloud ;  he 
sweeps  onward  with  the  march,  or  the 
hurricane  charge  !  God,  the  awful  and  the 
infinite,  fights  for  you,  and  will  triumph  ! 

"  They  that  take  the  sword  shall  perish  hy 
the  sword." 

215 


American  Revolution. 


You  have  taken  the  sword,  but  not 
in  the  spirit  of  wrong  and  ravage.  You 
have  taken  the  sword  for  your  homes, 
for  your  wives,  for  your  little  ones. 
You  have  taken  the  sword  for  truth,  for 
justice  and  right;  and  to  you  the  pro 
mise  is,  "Be  of  good  cheer,  for  your 
foes  have  taken  the  sword  in  defiance 
of  all  that  man  holds  dear,  in  blasphemy 
of  God."  They  shall  perish  by  the 
sword. 

And,  now,  brethren  and  soldiers,  I 
bid  you  all  farewell ! 

Many  of  us  may  fall  in  the  battle  to 
morrow.  God  rest  the  souls  of  the 
fallen!  Many  of  us  may  live  to  tell 
the  story  of  the  fight  to-morrow,  and  in 
the  memory  of  all  will  ever  rest  and 
linger  the  quiet  scene  of  this  autumnal 
night. 

Solemn    twilight   advances    over  the 


216 


American  Revolution. 


valley.  The  woods  on  the  opposite 
heights  fling  their  long  shadows  over 
the  green  of  the  meadow.  Around  us 
are  the  tents  of  the  Continental  host; 
the  suppressed  bustle  of  the  camp,  the 
hurried  tramp  of  the  soldiers  to  and  fro 
among  the  tents,  the  stillness  and  awe 
that  marks  the  eve  of  battle. 

When  we  meet  again  may  the  sha 
dows  of  twilight  be  flung  over  a  peace 
ful  land.  God  in  heaven  grant  it ! 

Let  us  pray. 

Oh  God  of  mercy,  we  pray  thy  bless 
ing  on  the  American  arms.  Make  the 
man  of  our  hearts  strong  in  thy  wisdom ; 
bless,  we  beseech  thee,  with  renewed 
life  and  strength,  our  hope  and  Thy 
instrument,  even  George  Washington. 
Shower  thy  counsels  down  on  the  Hon 
orable  the  Continental  Congress.  Visit 
the  tents  of  our  host;  comfort  the  sol- 

10  217 


American  Revolution. 


dier  in  his  wounds  and  afflictions ;  nerve 
him  for  the  fight;  prepare  him  for  the 
hour  of  death. 

And  in  the  hour  of  defeat,  oh,  God 
of  Hosts,  do  thou  be  our  stay;  and  in 
the  hour  of  triumph  be  thou  our  guide. 

Teach  us  to  be  merciful.  Though 
the  memory  of  galling  wrongs  be  at  our 
hearts  knocking  for  admittance,  that 
they  may  fill  us  with  the  desire  of  re 
venge,  yet  let  us,  oh,  Lord,  spare  the 
vanquished,  though  they  never  spared 
us  in  the  hour  of  butchery  and  blood 
shed ! 

And  in  the  hour  of  death  do  thou 
guide  us  to  the  abode  prepared  for  the 
blessed ;  so  shall  we  return  thanks  unto 
thee  through  Christ  our  Redeemer. 

God  prosper  the  Cause.     Amen. 


218 


American  Revolution. 


RECOLLECTIONS 


OF 


GENERAL    WASHINGTON. 


'  I HHE  following  note  was  found  among 
the  papers  of  the  late  Lord  Erskine  : 

"  To  GENERAL  WASHINGTON  : 

"  Sir, — I  have  taken  the  liberty  to 
introduce  your  august  and  immortal 
name  in  a  short  sentence  which  is  to 
be  found  in  the  book  I  send  to  you. 

Ct  I  have  a  large  acquaintance  among 
the  most  valuable  and  exalted  class  of 
men ;  but  you  are  the  only  human  being 
for  whom  I  ever  felt  an  awful  reverence. 


219 


American  Revolution. 


I  sincerely  pray  to  God  to  grant  a  long 
and  serene  evening  to  a  life  so  glori 
ously  devoted  to  the  happiness  of  the 

world. 

"T.  ERSKINE." 


In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1790,  I  stood 
upon  the  door-step  of  the  counting- 
house,  of  which  I  was  then  but  the 
youngest  clerk,  when  the  companion 
beside  me  hurriedly  said,  "There  he 
comes  !  There  comes  Washington  ! " 

I  looked  up  Pearl  Street,  and  saw 
approaching,  with  stately  tread  and 
open  brow,  the  Father  of  my  country. 
His  hat  was  off,  for  the  day  was  sultry, 
and  he  was  accompanied  by  Colonel 
Page  and  James  Madison. 

Never  have  I  forgotten,  nor  shall  I 
to  my  dying  day  forget,  the  serene,  the 


220 


American  Revolution. 


benign,  the  god-like  expression  of  the 
countenance  of  that  man  of  men.  His 
lofty  mien  and  commanding  figure,  set 
off  to  advantage  by  an  elegant  dress, 
consisting  of  a  blue  coat,  buff  small 
clothes,  silver  knee  and  shoe  buckles, 
and  white  vest;  his  powdered  locks, 
and  powerful,  vigorous  look  (for  he 
was  then  in  the  prime  and  strength  of 
his  manhood),  have  never  faded  from 
my  mind  during  the  many  years  which, 
with  all  their  chances  and  changes,  have 
rolled  between. 

As  Washington  passed  near  the  spot 
where  I  stood,  his  mild,  clear,  blue  eye 
fell  upon  me,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
his  very  glance  was  a  benediction. 
Though  high  deeds  and  noble  acts, 
fame,  death,  a  nation's  worship  and 
tears,  have  since  in  the  deep  places  of 
my  heart  consecrated  his  name  above 


221 


American  Revolution. 


every  other  name  of  earth,  yet  even 
then,  boy  as  I  was,  the  glance  thrilled 
me  through  and  through;  my  eyes  fell 
beneath  it,  and  my  hand  was  involun 
tarily  raised  to  uncover  my  head  as  that 
august  personage  passed  by. 

The  aspect  of  the  outer  man  alone 
was  calculated  to  enforce  respect,  to 
compel  awe  and  reverence.  But  there 
is  that  in  the  sight  and  presence  of  a 
being  we  revere,  a  being  whose  name 
we  have  been  taught  to  lisp  in  infancy 
with  grateful  affection,  and  have  had 
held  up  to  us  in  boyhood  as  worthy  of 
all  honor  and  imitation,  which  stirs  feel 
ings  which  lie  far  down  in  the  depths  of 
the  soul,  and  inspires  faith  and  trust  in 
God,  and  in  human  goodness.  Oh ! 
heaven-taught,  heaven-endowed  man ! 
ordained  of  thy  Maker  to  be  thy  coun 
try's  deliverer ! 


American  Revolution. 


Once  again  I  saw  the  President.  He 
was  riding,  the  carriage  being  drawn  by 
four  beautiful  bays.  I  remember  well 
its  silver  plate  and  yellow  panels  (yel 
low,  by  the  way,  has  ever  since  seemed 
to  me  a  proper  and  aristocratic  color  for 
a  vehicle  of  this  kind).  Mrs.,  or  Lady 
Washington,  as  she  was  always  called, 
sat  by  his  side.  She  was  of  a  comely 
and  pleasant  countenance,  and  appeared 
to  be  conversing  in  a  lively  manner 
with  the  General. 

"  Be  not  too  familiar,  lest  men  see 
thine  infirmities,  and  learn  to  cavil  at 
thy  teaching." 

This  truth  Washington  appears  to 
have  appreciated ;  or  rather  it  was  in 
nate  in  his  character.  Yet  no  man  had 
fewer  infirmities  than  he,  and  none 
could  have  less  dread  of  scrutiny.  The 
most  conspicuous  trait  in  his  character, 


American  Revolution. 


and  one  of  the  rarest  virtues,  was  mode 
ration.  This  was  exemplified  in  every 
act  of  his  life.  Temperance  shone  in  all ; 
it  was  the  guide  of  his  conduct,  the  key 
to  his  great  successes.  Ambition,  fame, 
military  glory,  considered  in  themselves, 
seem  never  to  have  had  entrance  into 
his  clear,  conscientious  mind.  With 
him  all  "  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of 
glorious  war"  was  never  dreamed  of. 
The  right  and  freedom  nerved  his  arm. 
He  drew  only  the  sword  of  defence. 
Though  his  courage  was  undaunted, 
enthusiasm  formed  no  part  of  his  cha 
racter.  "  The  loud  clarion  and  the  spirit- 
stirring  drum  "  never  drowned  in  his  ear 
the  cry  of  despair,  the  shriek  of  the  dy 
ing.  He  never  for  a  moment  forgot 
that  the  fall  of  the  meanest  soldier  on 
the  battle-field  carried  desolation,  wailing, 
and  often  destitution,  into  an  household. 


221 


American  Revolution. 


But  to  return.  The  gaily  prancing 
steeds  soon  rolled  the  carriage  out  of 
sight,  and  left  me  standing  in  the  street, 
an  enthusiastic  boy-dreamer,  with  won 
dering  gaze  and  crowding  thoughts. 

Once  more  was  he  borne  along;  the 
steeds  not  now"  prancing  and  gay,  but 
one,  the  old  war-horse,  led  before  his 
master's  body,  saddle  and  stirrup  empty, 
and  cloth  of  black  covering  him  !  Mourn 
fully  the  dumb  animal  seemed  to  walk. 
How  mutely  eloquent  it  was ! 

The  scene  is  now  before  me ;  the  so 
lemn  procession  slowly  moving,  marked 
through  all  its  length  with  the  sad  trap 
ping  of  wo.  The  unutterably  solemn 
strain  of  music,  the  march  for  the  dead, 
rings  in  my  ear.  I  seem  to  see  again 
the  serious,  downcast  faces  of  the  men 
who  followed  it.  Again  I  hear  the  sobs 
and  the  weeping  of  the  women,  and  see 

10*  225 


American  Revolution. 


the  wondering  and  affrighted  look  of 
the  little  children.  Each  mourned  as 
with  a  personal  grief.  Earth  will  never 
again  behold  such  a  spectacle — a  nation 
melted  in  tears ! 

Why  were  they  shed?  What  trait 
of  our  beloved  Washington  do  we  most 
gratefully  reverence  ?  Is  it  not  his 
transcendent  goodness,  his  unsullied  in 
tegrity,  his  purest  patriotism?  Yes, 
we  love  while  we  honor  his  memory. 
While  he  lived,  we  reposed  trust  in 
him,  as  in  an  ark  of  safety,  a  shield  of 
defence.  A  God-fearing  man,  He  pros 
pered  and  blessed  his  life.  Favored  of 
Heaven,  he  enjoyed  the  confidence  of 
men.  No,  I  repeat,  never  shall  I  forget 
the  words  which  wrought  wonder,  con 
sternation,  and  fear  in  my  mind — Wash 
ington  is  dead! 

For  many  years  I  dwelt  in  the  very 


226 


American  Revolution. 


house  in  which  the  great  defender  lived. 
I  slept  in  the  very  room  in  which 
he  slumbered.  Sometimes  an  ancient 
friend  of  the  family  would  point  out 
with  pleasure  and  honorable  pride  the 
very  spots  where  the  General  and  his 
lady  stood  on  grand  reception  days; 
how  they  were  attired;  what  gracious 
words  they  spake,  and  how  kindly  and 
how  hospitable  they  were. 

And  then  the  old  man,  sighing,  said 
to  my  mother,  with  the  retrospective 
glance  of  age,  "  Ah,  madam,  these  were 
palmy  days ! " 

There  was  one  article  in  the*  house 
which  had  belonged  to  the  Washington 
family,  and  only  one.  It  was  an  old 
mirror.  It  fitted  over  the  mantelpiece 
underneath  the  wainscotting,  and  was 
never  removed.  Well  do  I  remember, 
when  a  mere  child,  being  told  this  by 


American  Revolution. 


an  old  servant,  and  how  I  gazed  upon  it 
with  veneration,  because  it  had  often  re 
flected  the  face  and  form  of  the  beloved 
Washington.  It  was  held  as  a  relic  of  him. 
Many  a  weary  night  when  I  have 
lain  sleepless  on  my  bed,  the  wind 
whistling  mournfully  without,  a  lonely 
feeling  would  creep  over  me  as  I  looked 
upon  the  wainscotted  walls  of  The 
Great  Room,  the  old  blue  tiles  of  the 
large  fire-place,  and  the  deep  embrasured 
windows,  and  felt  the  stillness  so  pro 
found  within  that  I  could  almost  hear 
the  beating  of  my  heart.  Then  the  ter 
rors  of  a  fearful  imagination  would  be 
exorcised,  as  the  words  of  my  mother 
seemed  to  whisper  me  again :  "  When 
vain  fears  disturb  thee,  remember  the 
good  man  who  once  lay  where  thou 
liest,  and  be  thankful.  The  dark  vision 
will  be  dispelled." 


American  Revolution. 


Then  I  have  thought,  "His  eyes 
have  rested  on  the  objects  which  I  now 
behold."  I  have  fancied  the  thoughts 
that  might  have  filled  his  mind  as  he 
lay  on  a  sometime  sleepless  pillow- 
thoughts  pure,  thankful,  self-sacrificing, 
noble  ! 

A  vivid  picture  of  the  illustrious  man 
was  before  me;  his  countenance  up 
lifted  and  lustrous  with  heavenly  peace 
and  hope;  his  hands  upraised,  and  his 
lips  moving  with  words  of  prayer  and 
praise.  For  I  had  been  told  that  he 
was  a  man  of  prayer ;  and  in  this,  I  had 
been  taught  to  believe,  lay  his  strength. 

And  then  (easy  transition),  a  yet  more 
glorious  vision  passed  before  me — a 
beatific  vision.  I  have  seen  him  one 
of  the  throng  of  those  who  walk  in 
white  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Eter 
nal  Throne ;  his  face  radiant  with  joy, 

229 


American  Revolution. 


and  a  crown  of  light  encircling  his  brow, 
yet  wearing  the  same  serene,  majestic 
look  which  he  wore  on  earth. 

Spirit  of  Washington!  wise,  mild, 
merciful,  temperate,  just,  we  evoke  thee  ! 
Influence,  guide,  and  rule  thy  country 
men! 

230 


American  Revolution. 


RECOLLECTIONS 


OF 


GENERAL    LA    FAYETTE. 


TN  dwelling  upon  Washington,  the 
name  of  another  great  man  rises 
involuntarily — La  Fayette.  His  disin 
terestedness,  noble  heroism,  and  pure 
integrity,  shine  with  unsullied  lustre. 
We  experience  a  hearty  reverence  and 
affection;  are  proud  that  such  a  man 
espoused  our  cause,  and  freely  accord 
to  him  the  high  honor  of  one  worthy 
to  be  called  the  Friend  of  Washington. 
Kindred  in  spirit,  in  aims,  in  hopes, 


231 


American  Revolution. 


Washington  tempered  the  ardor  of  La 
Fayette,  viewing  him  in  the  light  of  a 
dear  son,  while  La  Fayette  reverenced 
the  wisdom,  greatness,  and  virtue  of 
his  guide,  his  example,  his  more  than 
friend. 

Married  to  a  lovely  and  high-born 
woman  in  the  year  1774,  when  but  a 
little  over  seventeen  years  of  age,  in  the 
summer  of  '76  La  Fayette  was  sta 
tioned  on  military  duty  at  Metz,  being 
then  an  officer  in  the  French  army. 
Dining  at  that  time  with  the  Duke  of 
Glocester  (brother  to  the  King  of  Eng 
land)  at-  the  house  of  the  commandant 
of  that  place,  the  conversation  fell  on 
American  affairs. 

The  details  were  new  to  the  young 
Marquis.  He  listened  \vith  eagerness 
and  intense  interest.  The  cause  seemed 
to  him  just  and  noble,  from  the  repre- 


232 


American  Revolution. 


sentations  of  the  Duke  himself,  and  be 
fore  he  left  the  table  he  devoted  himself 
heart  and  hand  to  it.  He  determined 
to  offer  his  services  to  a  people  who 
were  struggling  for  freedom  and  inde 
pendence.  And  from  that  hour  he  could 
think  of  nothing  but  this  chivalrous  en 
terprise. 

The  property  of  La  Fayette  being  at 
his  own  disposal  (an  annual  revenue  of 
two  hundred  thousand  livres),  he  was 
enabled  to  pursue  in  this  respect  his 
heroic  inclinations.  His  youthful  ima 
gination  was  fired  with  the  thirst  of 
glory.  The  dazzling  vision  of  conquer 
ing  and  establishing  a  wide  country 
over  the  sea,  to  be  the  habitation,  home, 
and  dwelling-place  of  Freedom,  so  dear 
to  his  lofty  and  untrammelled  mind,  be 
came  real  and  palpable.  Recollections 
of  the  glorious  Past,  its  republics  and 

233 


American  Revolution. 


their  ancient  splendor,  arts,  letters,  poets, 
orators,  and  warriors,  filled  his  mind, 
and  mingled  with  the  cry  of  the  op 
pressed  sounding  in  his  ear,  above  the 
booming  ocean  which  rolled  between, 
fixing  his  firm  resolve. 

Born  and  cradled  amid  the  most  aris 
tocratic  influences,  brought  up  in  the 
lap  of  luxury,  and  united  to  the  object 
of  his  affections,  rank,  wealth,  friends, 
power,  whose  blandishments  are  so  blind 
ing  to  the  mental  and  moral  vision,  and 
so  inimical  to  high  purposes  and  noble 
deeds,  were  unheeded  by  La  Fayette. 
That  cry  for  succor  was  never  stilled. 
He  would  not  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  it. 
The  promptings  of  a  generous  heart 
were  obeyed.  The  sacrifice  was  made ; 
to  him  no  sacrifice,  yet  in  truth  a  tremen 
dous  one,  one  which  we  feel  with  a  thrill 
of  gratitude,  and  shall  to  all  generations. 


American  Revolution. 


By  leaving  France,  La  Fayette  in 
curred  the  displeasure  of  his  king  and 
of  the  nobles  and  his  own  relations.  To 
his  wife  he  thus  writes,  when  fairly  off 
at  sea : 

44  How  many  fears  and  anxieties  en 
hance  the  keen  anguish  I  feel  at  being 
separated  from  all  that  I  love  most 
fondly  in  the  world !  How  have  you 
borne  my  departure  ?  Have  you  loved 
me  less?  Have  you  pardoned  me? 
Your  sorrow,  that  of  my  friends,  and 
my  child,  all  rushed  upon  my  thoughts, 
and  my  heart  was  torn  by  a  thousand 
painful  feelings.  I  could  not  at  that 
instant  find  any  excuse  for  my  own 
conduct. 

"  If  you  could  know  all  that  I  have 
suffered,  and  the  melancholy  days  that 
I  have  passed,  whilst  flying  from  all 
that  I  love  best  in  the  world !  Must  I 


235 


American  Revolution. 


join  to  this  affliction  the  grief  of  hear 
ing  that  you  do  not  pardon  me  *?  I 
should  feel  in  truth  too  miserable.  But 
I  need  not  fear  this,  need  I,  my  dearest 
love  ?  " 

In  reading  such  letters  we  fully  esti 
mate  the  costliness  of  the  sacrifice.  We 
may  perhaps  feel  regret  in  reviewing 
some  scenes  in  the  life  of  La  Fayette. 
We  regret  that  the  life  of  Louis  and 
his  beautiful  queen,  placed  in  his  hands, 
were  not,  by  decision,  firmness,  and  fore 
thought,  saved.  Speaking  of  them,  he 
says:  "The  king  and  queen,  whose 
lamentable  fate  only  allows  me  to  pride 
myself  on  some  service  I  have  rendered 
them."  Again :  "  If  I  have  erred  in  the 
path  I  am  pursuing,  forgive  the  illusions 
of  my  head  in  favor  of  the  good  inten 
tions  and  rectitude  of  my  heart." 

Washington's    love    for    La    Fayette 


236 


American  Revolution. 


forms  one  of  the  softest  and  most  beau 
tiful  traits  of  his  august  character.  "He 
came,"  says  the  Marquis,  in  speaking  of 
a  severe  illness  he  suffered,  "  every  day 
to  inquire  after  his  friend,  but  fearing  to 
agitate  him,  only  conversed  with  the 
physician,  and  returned  home  with  tear 
ful  eyes,  and  a  heart  oppressed  with 
grief." 

When  La  Fayette  was  wounded  at 
Brandywine,  Washington  said  to  the 
surgeon,  "  Take  care  of  him  as  if  he 
were  my  son,  for  I  love  him  the  same ; " 
and  he  expressed  for  him  during  this 
illness  the  most  tender  and  paternal 
anxiety. 

"  How   is   it   possible,"  exclaims  La 
Fayette,  whose  love  and  respect  knew 
no  bounds,  "that  he   should  not  have 
been  warmly  cherished  by  his  disciple- 
he  who,  uniting  all  that  is  good  to  all 


237 


American  Revolution. 


that  is  great,  is  even  more  sublime  from 
his  virtues  than  from  his  talents  ?  Had 
he  been  a  common  soldier  he  would 
have  been  the  bravest  in  the  ranks;  had 
he  been  an  obscure  citizen,  all  his  neigh 
bors  would  have  respected  him.  With 
a  heart  and  mind  equally  correctly 
formed,  he  judged  both  of  himself  and 
circumstances  with  strict  impartiality." 

"Nature,"  he  adds,  "while  creating 
him  expressly  for  that  Revolution,  con 
ferred  an  honor  upon  herself.  And  to 
show  her  work  to  the  greatest  possible 
advantage,  so  constituted  it,  that  each 
distinct  quality  would  have  failed  in 
producing  the  end  required,  had  it  not 
been  sustained  by  all  the  others." 

The  most  delightful  recollections  of 
my  earliest  childhood  are  those  of  the 
visit  of  General  de  La  Fayette  to  Ame 
rica.  The  splendid  pageant  of  his  en- 


238 


American  Revolution. 


trance  into  this  city  is  indelibly  im 
printed  on  my  memory;  as  is  also  the 
being  held  on  men's  shoulders  in  the 
Park,  after  viewing,  in  all  its  pompous 
length,  the  procession,  to  behold  the 
benevolent  and  beaming  countenance 
of  one  whom  I  had  been  taught  to  re 
vere. 

Afterwards  too,  the  honor  that  I  felt 
in  being  taken  by  the  hand  by  this 
great  and  brave  man,  my  heart  beating 
proudly  the  while  beneath  the  ribbon 
badge  which  I  wore,  stamped  with  his 
features,  and  with  the  words,  *  Welcome 
to  the  Nation's  Guest." 

Oh,  happy  day  for  me !  thrice  happy 
and  glorious  to  him ! 

The  animated  face,  plain  dress,  few 
courteous  words,  and  gracious,  kind 
looks  of  La  Fayette,  are  well  remem 
bered. 


American  Revolution. 


Kings  and  emperors  have  visited  the 
kingdoms  of  their  compeers,  when  more 
elaborate  pageantry,  more  royal  pomp 
has  been  displayed. 

From  war,  victors  have  come  laden 
with  spoils,  while  the  populace,  with 
frantic  zeal,  have  dragged  their  chariots 
through  the  crowd  of  benighted  wor 
shippers;  but  such  an  universal,  spon-4 
ta-neous  outburst  of  national  gratitude— 
the  impulse  of  millions  as  of  one  undi 
vided  heart  and  mind — cherished,  trans 
mitted,  and  grown  with  the  nation's 
growth,  during  the  lapse  of  near  fifty 
years,  was  never  before  exhibited  to  the 
world — was  never  recorded  on  history's 
page ! 


240 


American  Revolution. 


A N  E  C  DOT  E  S     OF 


AND 


TRIBUTES    TO    WASHINGTON, 


TN  1754  he  was  stationed  at  Alexan 
dria  with  his  regiment,  the  only  one 
in  the  colony,  of  which  he  was  the  colo 
nel.  There  happened  at  that  time  to  be 
an  election  in  Alexandria  for  members  of 
the  Assembly,  and  the  ballot  ran  high 
between  Colonel  George  Fairfax  and 
Mr.  William  Elgey. 

Washington  was  on  the  side  of  Fair 
fax,  and  a  Mr.  William  Payne  headed 
the  friends  of  Elgey. 

11  241 


American  Revolution. 


In  the  course  of  the  contest,  Wash 
ington  grew  very  warm  (for  his  passions 
naturally  were  very  powerful,  though  a 
wise  regard  to  duty,  i.e.  honor  and  hap 
piness,  soon  reduced  them  to  proper 
command),  and  unluckily  said  some 
thing  to  Mr.  Payne,  who,  though  but  a 
cub  in  size,  was  a  lion  in  heart,  elevated 
his  shillelah,  and,  at  a  blow,  extended 
our  hero  on  the  ground. 

News  was  soon  carried  to  the  regi 
ment  that  their  colonel  was  murdered 
by  the  mob ! 

On  the  passions  of  the  soldiers,  who 
doated  upon  their  commander,  such  a  re 
port  fell  at  once  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
on  a  magazine  of  gunpowder. 

In  a  moment  the  whole  regiment  was 
under  arms  and  in  rapid  motion  to 
wards  the  town,  burning  for  vengeance. 

During   this    time    Washington    had 


242 


American  Revolution. 


been  liberally  plied  with  cold  water, 
acids,  and  volatiles;  and,  happily  for 
Mr.  Payne  and  his  party,  was  so  far 
recovered  as  to  go  out  and  meet  his 
enraged  soldiers,  who  crowded  round 
him  with  faces  of  honest  joy  to  see  him 
alive  again. 

After  thanking  them  for  such  an  evi 
dence  of  their  attachment  to  him,  he 
assured  them  that  he  was  not  hurt  in 
the  least,  and  begged  them,  by  their 
love  of  him  and  of  their  duty,  to  return 
peaceably  to  their  barracks. 

As  for  himself,  he  went  to  his  room, 
generously  chastising  his  passion,  which 
had  just  struck  but  a  spark  that  had 
like  to  have  thrown  the  whole  town  in 
a  flame  ;  and  feeling  himself  the  aggres 
sor  of  Mr.  Payne,  he  resolved  to  make 
him  the  honorable  reparation  of  asking 
his  pardon. 


243 


American  Revolution. 


No  sooner  had  he  made  this  heroic 
resolution,  than  recovering  that  delicious 
gaiety  which  ever  accompanies  good 
purposes  in  a  virtuous  mind,  he  went 
to  a  ball  that  night,  and  behaved  as 
pleasantly  as  though  nothing  had  hap 
pened. 

Early  the  next  morning  he  wrote  a 
polite  note  of  invitation  to  Mr.  Payne 
to  meet  him  at  the  inn. 

Payne  took  it  for  a  challenge,  and 
repaired  to  the  inn  in  full  expectation 
of  smelling  gunpowder.  But  what  was 
his  surprise,  on  entering  the  chamber, 
to  see,  in  lieu  of  a  brace  of  pistols,  a 
decanter  of  wine  and  a  pair  of  glasses 
on  the  table. 

Washington  rose  to  meet  him,  and 
offering  his  hand,  with  a  smile  began  : 

"  Mr.  Payne,  to  err  sometimes  is  na 
ture  ;  to  rectify  error  is  always  glory. 


American  Revolution. 


I  believe  I  was  wrong  in  the  affair  of 
yesterday.  You  have  had,  I  think, 
some  satisfaction,  and  if  you  deem  that 
sufficient,  there  is  my  hand ;  let  us  be 
friends." 

An  act  of  such  sublime  virtue,  pro 
duced  its  proper  effect  upon  the  mind 
of  Mr.  Payne,  who,  from  that  moment, 
became  the  most  enthusiastic  admirer 
and  friend  of  Washington ;  and  for  his 
sake,  ready  at  any  time  to  charge  up  to 
a  battery  of  two-and-forty  pounders. 

"  Would  our  youth,"  says  the  narra 
tor,  "  but  be  persuaded  to  act  in  a  style 
so  correct  and  heroical,  our  papers  would 
no  longer  shock  us  with  accounts  of 
elegant  young  men  murdering  each 
other  on  false  principles  of  honor;  by 
one  desperate  deed  depriving  them 
selves  of  all  present  pleasure,  and  of  all 
future  hope." 


245 


American  Revolution. 


"  There  was  a  man,"  says  an  eloquent 
writer,  "who  stood  on  the  loftiest  seat 
of  power  and  did  not  fall.  Hallowed 
for  all  time  be  the  anniversary  of  his 
birth  !  Our  Washington  was  one  of  the 
few  great  men  in  the  world,  in  whom 
the  better  sentiments  were  wrought  into 
established  and  governing  principles." 

This  was  emphatically  his  greatness. 
His  whole  character  was  based  upon 
steadfast  and  inflexible  principles.  I 
see  this  trait  in  all  his  writings.  I  see 
everywhere,  how  all  that  there  was  of 
feeling  and  enthusiasm  in  his  mind  was 
tamed  down  to  the  sedateness  and 
strength  of  principle.  I  see  in  his 
whole  life  the  same  concentration  of 
everything  to  the  one  point  of  duty. 

Duty,  principle,  was  the  pole-star  that 
guided  him  through  the  troubled  and 
trying  scenes  of  his  life. 


246 


American  Revolution. 


It  is  this  which  the  sculptor  has  set 
forth  when  he  represented  the  victorious 
chief  with  one  hand  surrendering  to  the 
country  the  sheathed  sword,  the  emblem 
at  once  of  command  and  of  power,  and 
with  the  other  pointing  to  heaven,  in 
token  of  humble  and  solemn  gratitude, 
and  allegiance  to  the  Power  Supreme. 

And  this  was,  in  the  sphere  in  which 
he  moved,  a  greatness  of  which  many 
who  are  called  great  were  utterly  in 
capable.  It  was  a  greatness  which  no 
man  in  similar  circumstances  ever  ex 
hibited.  A  Caesar  grasping  at  the  scep 
tre  of  empire,  an  Alexander  sweeping 
the  skirts  of  Asia  with  his  hosts,  a  Na 
poleon  or  a  Cromwell,  vaulting,  when 
occasion  served,  to  the  seat  of  arbitrary 
power — what  were  those  examples  of 
miscalled  greatness  to  the  sublime  and 
Christian  heroism  of  our  Washington  *? 


American  Revolution. 


This  demands  a  resolution,  an  energy, 
a  nobleness,  to  be  seen  nowhere  else. 
To  abjure  all  ease,  all  softness,  all  in 
dulgence,  all  ambition,  as  the  solemn 
behest  of  charity;  to  bring  to  an  end 
this  eternal  conflict — the  contradiction 
between  our  ideal  and  our  practice — to 
pass  through  the  great  regeneration  from 
passive  sentiment  to  resolved  and  active 
principle.  This,  in  every  walk,  indi 
vidual,  social,  political,  in  every  career 
of  communities  or  nations,  is  the  only 
path  to  unfading  glory  on  earth,  and 
eternal  bliss  in  heaven. 


248 


American  Revolution. 


REMARKS  ON  THE  DEATH 


OF 


GENERAL    LA    FAYETTE. 


HPHE  majority  of  men  estimate  the 
superiority  of  their  fellows  solely 
by  the  indications  of  power — of  power 
under  whatever  shape  it  may  present 
itself;  no  matter  how  unequal  may  be 
its  development,  or  how  destructive  its 
display.  What  mind  does  not  shrink 
before  the  blazing  intellect  of  Byron— 
the  iron  ambition  of  Napoleon  ? 

But  how  few  can  appreciate  the  moral 
grandeur,  the  wonderful  assemblage,  the 


American  Revolution. 


just  balancing  and  developing  of  good 
and  great  qualities,  in  the  character  of 
Washington?  And  yet  that  character 
was  such  a  phenomenon  as  a  singular  de 
parture  from  the  wonted  exhibitions  of 
human  nature,  under  its  most  glorious 
aspects,  as  ever  had  a  place  upon  the 
annals  of  mankind. 

And  history  will  regard  La  Fayette 
as  one  of  those  immortal  benefactors  of 
our  race  who  have  stretched  their  arms 
beyond  one  generation  to  embrace  the 
children  of  centuries  in  advance — a  liv 
ing  model  of  goodness  in  every  age ! 
One  of  the  few  nobly  great  men  who 
live  on  the  pages  of  the  world's  history, 
to  teach  us,  when  despairing  of  the  on 
ward  destiny  of  our  race,  that  there  have 
been  some  who  have  dared  to  be  honest 
under  all  circumstances,  and  who  have 
retained  their  benignity  and  love  of 


American  Revolution. 


mankind,  when  philanthropy  became  a 
reproach  and  a  by-word  ! 

The  honesty  that  rose  to  the  dignity 
of  heroism,  and  the  moderation  which 
in  classic  story  would  be  dignified  as 
the  loftiest  philosophy,  will  leave  un 
questioned  the  greatness  of  La  Fayette. 


THE    END. 


RETURN       CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

TO""fr>        202  Main  Library 


LOAN  PERIOD  1 
HOME  USE 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

1  -month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405 
6-month  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing  books  to  Circulation  D 
Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  due  date 

DUE    AS   STAMPED   BELOW 

HMTERiJBRARY  LOAN 

APR  ii  n  ,077 

UNW,  OF  CAUIF.,  BERK. 

OCT  131988 

MAR  0  2  1934 

X*i/  /^ 

ft 

l__JLi) 

AY  0  1  ^4 

APR  0  9  19*3 

AUTO  n;.,c 

*    V  *»     u" 

HIM       t    innn 

FEB021999 

JIM        19^3 

i        •  !    A  "T  1  /^  (M 

•             •     •  CJ 

FORM  NO.  DD  6, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKEl 
BERKELEY,  CA   94720 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


BD00313S7M 


M169604 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


